PARTY-  LEADERS 
OFTHETIME 


•  •  •         9 


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'..  ••»• 


THEODORE   ROOSEVELT. 


T5 


Copyright,  i9o6»  by 
G.  W.  DILLINGHAM  COMPANY 


(^Issued March,  igo6) 

Net 


Party  Leaders  of  the  Time 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I.  SOME  ASPECTS  OF  EOOSEVELT      .  11 

II.     SENATE  POETRAITS 

I.    The  Rulers  of  the  Senate 25 

II.  Hale,  the  New  Floor  Leader      .               .        .  38 

III.  The  Recreations  of  John  C.  Spooner  ...  47 

IV.  George  Frisbie  Hoar  :  The  Last  of  a  Long  Line  57 

V.  The  Vendetta  of  H  ANN  A  AND  Pettigrevv    .        ,  79 

VI.  Platt  of  New  York 94 

VII.    The  Two  Gormans 109 

VIII.    The  Evolution  of  Bailey      .        .        .       .        .  119 

IX.    Senator  Tillman,  Despair  of  Analysts     .        .  129 

X.    "  The  Grand  Young  Man  OF  Indiana  "       .        .  137 

III.     SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

I.    The  House  Machine 149 

II.  The  House  Triumvirate 157 

III.  The  Aristocracy  op  the  House    .       .       .       .165 

IV.  Uncle  Joe 173 

V.    Williams,  a  Leader  Who  Leads         .        .        .184 

VI.  The  Rebellions  of  Tawney 194 

VII.  The  Stampedes  of  William  Alden  Smith  .        .  205 

VIII.      BOURKE    COCKRAN  :    AND   LiTTLEFIELD,    THE    NEW 

"  Man  from  Maine  " 217 

IX.    Hearst  in  Congress 232 

X.    Marse  Sydney  Mudd  and  His  Kingdom      .        .  248 

3 


Ml5i31S 


4  CX)NTENTS 

lY.     ''TBB  OTHER  END  OP  THE 

AVENUE'^ 

I.    John  Hay 261 

II.      INTEEVIEWING  SECRETARY  ROOT       ....  283 

III.  Taft,  Spokesman  of  the  Administration    .        .  301 

IV.  Knox  the  Lawyer 310 

V.    Wynne,  the  Ring-Breaker 320 

VI.      IBONQUILL  OF  KANSAS 328 

VII.    Count  Cassini,  a  Diplomatic  Ideal     .        .        .337 

VIII.    Bunnell  :  a  Portrait  from  the  Press  Gallery  350 

V.     OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

I.    Bryan  the  Fighter 363 

II.    Weaver  and  Durham  :  A  Ring-Smasher  and  a 

Boss 386 

III.  Governor  Higgins— New  York's  New  Leader?  399 

IV.  Woodruff,  Boss  of  Brooklyn       .       .       .       .412 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Theodore  Roosevelt 
Nelson  W.  Aldrich 
William  B.  Allison 
Orville  H.  Piatt 
Eugene  Hale 
John  C.  Spooner 
George  Frisbie  Hoar 
Marcus  A.  Hanna 
Thomas  C.  Piatt 
Arthur  P.  Gorman 
Joseph  W.  Bailey 
Benjamin  R.  Tillman 
Albert  J.  Beveridge 
John  Dalzell 
Sereno  E.  Payne 
Charles  H.  Grosvenor 
Joseph  G.  Cannon 
John  Sharp  Williams 
James  A.  Tawney 
W.  Bourke  Cockran 
Charles  E.  Littlefield 
William  Randolph  Hearst 
Sydney  E.  Mudd 
John  Hay 
Elihu  Root 
William  J.  Taft 
Philander  C.  Knox 
Robert  J.  Wynne 
Count  Cassini 
William  J.  Bryan 
John  Weaver    . 
Frank  Wayland  Higgins 


Page 
Frontispiece 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

The  public  men  of  our  time  are  much 
talked  of  but  little  known.  It  is  the  aim  of 
this  book  to  make  their  personalities  clear,  to 
make  visible  human  beings  and  not  mere 
names  out  of  them.  No  one  familiar  with 
Washington  life  can  doubt  that  the  opportu- 
nities for  making  such  studies  belong  to  the 
newspaper  correspondents  in  greater  measure 
than  to  any  other  men  who  come  to  meet  and 
know  our  statesmen. 

Whether  these  opportunities  have  been  well 
used  in  the  present  work  or  not  is  for  the 
reader  to  say.  All  the  writer  claims  is  that 
he  has  had  these  opportunities  as  Washington 
correspondent  of  the  New  York  Times  and  the 
Philadelphia  Public  Ledger,  and  that,  having 
them,  he  has  set  down  what  he  believes  to  be 
the  absolute  truth,  without  fear  or  favor. 

Washington  is  the  head  centre  for  American 
public  men,  and  the  writer  has  confined  his 
sketches  chiefly  to  the  men  met  there.  In 
the  last  division  of  the  book,  entitled  ''  Out  in 
the  Field,"  he  has  tried  to  portray  a  few  of 
the  more  interesting  personalities  of  the  day 

7 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

outside  the  capital  whom  he  has  met  in  the 
course  of  the  staff  work  that  Washington  cor- 
respondents are  called  upon  to  perform. 

In  addition  to  the  party  leaders  described 
here  the  writer  has  taken  a  few  steps  outside 
his  proper  field  to  describe  one  or  two  of  the 
men  who  have  left  their  impress  upon  the 
public  life  of  Washington,  though  they  were 
not  party  leaders  or  even  party  men.  Count 
Cassini,  for  example,  has  been  selected  as  the 
most  interesting  personality  of  his  time  in  the 
diplomatic  corps  of  which  he  was  so  long  the 
dean. 


I 

SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF  EOOSEYELT 

It  would  not  be  possible  in  a  single  sketch 
to  sum  up  the  character  of  President  Roose- 
velt. Francis  E.  Leupp  and  Jacob  A.  Riis 
each  tried  to  do  it  in  a  book.  Neither  of 
them  trod  on  the  other's  heels,  and  both  of 
them  left  material  for  several  more  books  be- 
yond their  own  boundaries. 

Therefore  this  sketch  is  no  exhaustive 
analysis  of  Mr.  Roosevelt.  All  it  aims  to  do 
is  to  clear  up  a  few  matters  connected  with  a 
many-sided  personality  that  is  always  full  of 
new  and  surprising  features  to  those  who 
think  they  know  it  best. 

In  the  universal  chorus  of  gush  about  the 
President  no  account  has  been  taken  of  those 
who  feel  that  they  have  real  grievances 
against  him.  When  some  senator  or  represent- 
ative rebels,  the  general  disposition  is  to  say, 
*'  Aha,  another  politician  sore  because  Teddy 
has  spoiled  his  graft."  There  are  many  sena- 
tors and  representatives  who  are  high-minded 
and  honorable  men,  and  who  do  not  like  the 
President  for  what  they  consider  good  reasons. 

11 


lii;  ;;S0te1E  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT 

And  yet  the  reasons  are  not  always  as  good  a» 
they  appear  to  those  who  entertain  them. 

It  may  be  a  matter  of  surprise,  for  instance, 
to  many  readers  of  the  general  avalanche  of 
gush  to  know  that  there  are  men  here  who 
quite  honestly  believe  the  President  to  be  in- 
sincere. They  are  wrong  about  it,  but  their 
opposition  to  him  is  quite  honest. 

There  are  drawbacks  as  well  as  joys  about 
the  incumbency  of  the  Presidency  by  a  man 
who  is  violently  impulsive  as  well  as  roar- 
ingly  honest.  The  trouble  is  that  as  a  rule 
these  drawbacks  have  been  described  in 
affrighted  tones  by  solemn  men  who  saw 
ghosts.  A  sense  of  humor  is  badly  needed  by 
the  men  who  se^  the  defects  of  Roose- 
velt. 

For  example,  they  see  the  possibility  of  an 
imminent  wreck  of  the  Constitution  in  some 
spasmodic  moment.  The  Constitution  may 
fall,  as  other  Constitutions  have,  but  it  will 
not  be  swept  overboard  by  the  sudden  rush  of 
an  irritated  president  who  finds  it  momentar- 
ily in  his  way. 

On  the  other  hand — it  is  impossible  to 
write  a  truthful  article  about  Roosevelt  with- 
out saying  ''  on  the  other  hand  ''  every  other 
paragraph,  his  nature  is  so  full  of  contradic- 
tions— it  is  indisputably  true  that  when  Mr. 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT        13 

Roosevelt  finds  the  laws,  whether  of  the  Con- 
stitution or  otherwise,  in  his  way,  he  is  not 
appalled  thereby ;  he  is  only  impelled  to  the 
use  of  a  short-cut  somewhere.  As  the  phre- 
nologists say,  reverence  is  not  well  developed  ; 
audacity  is  well  developed.  He  loves  the 
Constitution,  but  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
him  in  an  awe-stricken  attitude,  on  his  knees, 
towards  anything,  a  Constitution  or  anything 
else. 

A  few  highly  commonplace  illustrations 
may  illustrate  both  the  safety  and  the  danger 
of  Roosevelt.  For  he  is  an  ark  of  safety  to 
this  government  in  some  ways,  and  a  danger 
in  others.  There  has  never  been  a  president 
since  1789  who  could  so  surely  be  relied  upon 
in  a  case  where  the  forms  of  law  were  being 
used  by  the  criminal  rich  or  the  criminal 
poor  ;  for  he  would  break  through  the  forms 
to  save  the  substance.  There  has  never  been 
a  president  so  dangerous  in  any  emergency 
which  might  arise  where  he  happened  to  be 
wrong ;  for  he  would  break  through  the  forms 
of  law  then  as  in  the  other  case,  because  of  his 
belief  in  his  own  divine  rightness.  Whether 
the  good  outweighs  the  evil  or  not  is  a  ques- 
tion to  be  decided  according  to  partisan  prej- 
udices. According  to  the  opinion  of  one  who 
has  watched  him  long  at  close  range,  with 


14        SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT 

every  desire  to  be  perfectly  impartial  in  judg- 
ment, it  does. 

But  here  are  the  illustrations.  The  first  is 
the  case  of  Judge  John  C.  Pollock  of  Topeka. 
The  Kansas  delegation  was  split  up  over  the 
appointment.  Senator  Long  was  backing 
Pollock  and  Senator  Burton,  the  same  who 
has  since  become  undesirably  famous,  was 
backing  Charles  Blood  Smith.  The  repre- 
sentatives were  still  more  divided,  having 
several  candidates. 

When  the  fight  grew  hot  the  friends  of 
other  candidates  made  charges  against  Pol- 
lock. The  Kansas  delegation  besieged  the 
president  daily  and  poured  into  his  impatient 
ear  tales  of  the  worth  of  this  candidate  and 
the  viciousness  of  that.  One  day  the  presi- 
dent seemed  to  lean  one  way,  another  day  he 
lent  a  more  attentive  ear  to  a  different  candi- 
date. 

At  last  he  told  the  Kansas  delegation  that 
he  would  be  bothered  no  more ;  that  they 
must  go  to  the  capitol,  swoop  on  some  unoc- 
cupied committee  room,  and  there  ballot  till 
they  came  to  a  decision  ;  and  the  man  they 
elected  he  would  appoint. 

The  Kansans  went  their  way  with  much 
misgiving,  for  they  foresaw  only  the  dimmest 
possibility  that  they  could  agree.     They  were 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT        15 

quite  right  about  that.  They  cast  eight  bal- 
lots without  result,  and  were  just  cutting  up 
slips  of  paper  for  the  ninth  when  a  senator 
lounged  in. 

''  What  are  you  doing?  "  he  inquired. 

"  We  are  balloting  for  a  Federal  judgeship/' 
they  explained.  ''  The  president  has  told  us 
he  would  appoint  the  man  we  selected." 

"  Well,  you  needn't  ballot  any  more,"  said 
the  senator.  ''  The  president  has  just  this 
minute  sent  in  the  name  of  Judge  Pollock." 

At  first  the  Kansans  could  not  believe  it, 
and  when  they  found  it  was  correct  they  were 
vastly  wroth,  at  least  all  of  them  but  the  Pol- 
lock faction.  Naturally  it  looked  to  them  as 
if  the  president  had  tricked  them. 

The  simple  fact  was  that  as  they  left  the 
White  House  ''  Cy  "  Leland,  of  much  fame 
as  a  political  leader  in  Kansas,  came  in. 
He  talked  in  a  general  way  of  the  judge- 
ship fight,  and  told  the  president  how  much 
distressed  Pollock's  family  were  over  the 
charges  which  had  been  filed  against  him. 
The  president  said  he  didn't  think  much  of 
the  charges. 

"  Well,  they  are  distressed  about  them  all 
the  same,"  said  Leland.  ''  Just  look  at  this 
letter  which  the  judge  got  to-day  from  his 
little  fifteen-year-old  daughter  Lucile,  who  is 


16        SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT 

in  school  at  Topeka.  The  judge,  you  know, 
is  in  Washington,  and  here  is  what  she  writes 
to  him : 

'''Dear  Papa:     Why  don't  you  go  to  the'^ 
president  and  tell  him  about  it?     If  he  sees 
your  face  he  will  never  believe  those  nasty 
charges.'  " 

The  president  took  a  rose  from  the  flowers 
on  his  table,  handed  it  to  Leland,  and  said  : 

"  You  send  that  flower  to  Miss  Lucile  and 
tell  her  I  like  a  little  girl  who  has  that  kind 
of  faith  in  her  father  and  I  have  a  lot  of  faith 
in  a  father  who  has  that  kind  of  a  little 
girl." 

Then  he  called  up  the  Department  of  Jus- 
tice and  learned  that  an  investigation  showed 
that  the  charges  against  Pollock  were  untrue, 
and  in  Leland's  presence  he  wrote  out  Pol- 
lock's nomination  and  dispatched  the  messen- 
ger to  the  Senate.  Lucile  landed  her  father 
on  the  Federal  bench  within  ten  minutes 
after  her  letter  was  read. 

It  is  on  such  occurrences  as  this  that  politi- 
cians found  their  belief  in  Roosevelt's  insin- 
cerity. The  Kansans  thought  he  had  buncoed 
them.  As  a  matter  of  fact  there  was  no  insin- 
cerity about  it.  He  knew  well  enough  that 
they  would  never  agree,  and  Lucile's  letter, 
coming  at  a  time  when  he  was  tired  of  the 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT        17 

whole  thing,  decided  him.  It  was  impulsive- 
ness, not  insincerity. 

One  evening  General  Basil  W.  Duke,  of  Mor- 
gan's rough  riders  in  civil  war  times,  came  to 
Washington  from  Kentucky  and  made  a 
speech  at  an  alumni  dinner.  He  eulogized 
Roosevelt  and  his  policy.  Duke  was  a  Gold 
Democrat  who  left  his  party  in  1896.  He 
had  never  become  a  Republican,  but  was 
pretty  independent. 

At  that  time  there  was  a  hot  contest  on  for 
a  Federal  judgeship — a  Circuit  Court  ap- 
pointment, including  Kentucky.  Senator 
Foraker  had  a  candidate  and  so  did  several 
other  Ohio  and  Kentucky  Republicans,  and 
the  president  could  not  make  up  his  mind 
whom  to  appoint.  The  next  morning,  Gen- 
eral Duke's  speech  having  been  printed  in  the 
papers,  the  general  went  to  the  White  House 
to  pay  his  respects.  The  president  was  de- 
lighted to  see  him  and  offered  him  the  Circuit 
Court  appointment  on  the  spot. 

General  Duke  was  astounded.  He  told  the 
president  he  didn't  want  it  and  couldn't  take 
it.  The  president  insisted,  and  Duke  had  the 
hardest  time  of  his  life  getting  away  from  the 
judgeship.  He  finally  succeeded  in  getting 
back  to  Louisville  without  an  appointment, 
but  it  was  a  hard  job.     The  president  subse- 


18        BOM'S  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT 

quently  and  reluctantly  appointed  one  of  the 
men  suggested  by  congressmen. 

It  is  on  such  occurrences  as  these  that  men 
base  the  belief  on  Roosevelt's  vanity,  which 
is  as  currently  insisted  upon  as  the  belief  in 
his  insincerity.  There  was  no  vanity  about 
it.  Men  will  argue  to  this  day  that  Mr.  Roose- 
velt offered  the  place  to  Duke  because  his 
vanity  was  tickled  by  the  speech.  The  fact 
was  that  none  of  the  candidates  suggested 
pleased  the  president.  When  he  saw  Duke's 
speech,  it  immediately  suggested  to  his  mind 
a  new  name  and  the  name  of  a  man  who 
seemed  to  him  to  fill  the  bill.  The  speech 
showed  that  Duke  was  not  enough  of  a  Demo- 
crat to  hurt,  and  on  the  spot  the  president 
made  up  his  mind.  It  was  another  case  of 
impulsiveness,  not  of  vanity. 

Once  Representative  Hunter  of  Kentucky 
went  to  the  White  House  to  urge  the  ap- 
pointment of  a  candidate  for  an  office  in  his 
district.  The  president  told  him  that  he  had 
not  yet  decided  the  case.  Dr.  Hunter  strolled 
down  to  the  capitol  in  a  leisurely  way,  and 
when  he  arrived  the  correspondent  of  a  Ken- 
tucky paper  rushed  up  and  said,  ''  Dr.  Hunter, 
what  do  you  think  of  Blank's  appointment  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Blank  hasn't  been  appointed,"  replied 
Hunter.     ''  I  have  just  left  the  White  House, 


SOME  ASPECTS  OE  ROOSEVELT        19 

and  the  president  told  me  he  had  come  to  no 
decision  in  that  matter.'^ 

"  But  he  has,"  responded  the  reporter. 
"  The  name  has  just  been  sent  in  to  the 
Senate." 

Hunter  would  not  believe  it,  and  when  at 
last  convinced  he  turned  all  colors  and  re- 
fused to  discuss  it.  For  Blank  was  not  his 
candidate,  but  the  candidate  of  persons  op- 
posed to  Hunter. 

That  too  was  quoted  as  a  proof  of  this 
much-talked-of  insincerity,  which  no  one  ever 
hears  of  in  the  world  at  large,  but  which  is 
heard  of  constantly  in  Washington.  And 
again  it  was  not  insincerity,  but  impulsive- 
ness. Hunter's  visit  suggested  to  the  presi- 
dent's mind  the  idea  that  he  ought  to  decide 
that  case  soon,  and  thinking  over  the  situa- 
tion he  came  to  an  instant  decision.  In  went 
the  appointee's  name,  and  it  reached  the 
capitol  before  Hunter  did. 

It  is  this  impulsiveness,  this  habit  of  doing 
things  at  the  drop  of  the  hat,  which  consti- 
tutes the  chief  fault  in  Roosevelt  as  a  presi- 
dent. For  he  often  decides  wrongly.  On  the 
other  hand,  his  decisions  in  the  three  cases 
cited  were  made  not  at  the  dictation  of  any 
politician,  but  either  in  flat  opposition  to  them 
or  in  utter  indifference  to  them,  and  always  in 


20        SOME  ASPECTS  OF  KOOSEVELT 

accordance  with  what  Roosevelt  believed  the 
interests  of  the  public.  In  this  lies  his  chief 
value  as  a  president. 

It  is  less  easy  to  explain  away  other  defects, 
high  among  which  ranks  a  certain  divine 
Tightness  which  covers  not  only  himself  but 
his  friends.  The  president  is  not  more 
confident  of  the  absolute  all-rightness  of 
himself  than  he  is  convinced  that  none  of 
his  friends  can  err.  This  is  what  has  led  him 
into  such  colossal  blunders  as  his  persistent  de- 
fense of  Loomis. 

He  has  been  criticised — here,  of  course,  in 
this  unsympathetic  and  half-hostile  city — for 
vanity  and  love  of  posing  ;  and  the  chief 
counts  in  the  indictment  are  his  having  him- 
self photographed  in  the  act  of  chopping 
trees,  jumping  his  horse  over  fences,  etc.  It 
is  not  vanity ;  it  is  that  sense  which  Mark 
Twain  describes  as  ^'the  circus  side  of  my 
nature."  Tom  Sawyer  had  it,  and  so  did  the 
immortal  Yankee  who  stayed  so  long  in  King 
Arthur's  court.  It  was  not  vanity  which  led 
Tom  to  get  himself  in  the  limelight ;  it  was 
an  appreciation  of  dramatic  effect  combined 
with  a  natural  preference  for  himself  as  the 
star.  The  president  never  loses  that  sense. 
The  Yankee  at  King  Arthur's  court  was  nat- 
urally glad  to  escape  death  by  surprising  the 


SOME  ASPECTS  OF  ROOSEVELT        21 

Britons  with  an  eclipse,  but  not  even  the  joy 
of  escape  was  eminent  in  his  mind  over  the 
delight  of  being  the  centre  of  the  situation, 
and  such  a  situation. 

A   trait  like  that  is  as  far  removed  from 
vanity  as  from  mock-modesty. 


II 

SENATE  PORTRAITS 


NELSON   W.   ALDRICH. 
"Aldrich  is  a  chess-player  with  men.' 


THE  EULEES  OF  THE  SENATE 

There  was  some  talk  of  tariff  revision 
shortly  after  President  Roosevelt's  election, 
and  although  there  was  not  a  ghost  of  a 
chance  for  it  then  the  talk  kept  up  in  a  des- 
ultory fashion  among  the  uninformed  until 
it  was  effectively  quieted  by  a  conference  at 
the  White  House  wherein  Senator  Aldrich 
participated.  Whereupon  one  of  the  comic 
weeklies  observed  that  the  principal  result  of 
this  White  House  conference  was  the  acqui- 
sition by  the  president  of  the  knowledge  that 
a  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Aldrich  was  run- 
ning the  United  States. 

This  resembles  many  other  things  that  ap- 
pear in  comic  weeklies  by  not  being  comic  at 
all.  The  chief  inaccuracy  in  the  statement 
is  the  implication  that  the  president  had  only 
just  become  aware  of  the  autocracy  of  Aldrich. 
Of  course  it  did  not  take  the  president  three 
years  and  a  half  to  learn  elementary  facts  in 
civil  government. 

So  far  from  being  comic,  the  epigram  in 
25 


26  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

question  has  some  solid  title  to  inclusion  in  a 
text-book  on  the  government  of  the  United 
States ;  yet  in  it  there  are  a  couple  of  minor 
inaccuracies,  both  being  of  implication  rather 
than  of  statement.  The  first  is  the  implica- 
tion that  Mr.  Aldrich  is  running  the  United 
States  all  by  himself.  In  the  days  of  the 
Roman  Empire  it  was  customary  for  an  em- 
peror to  associate  with  himself  another  em- 
peror, both  wearing  the  title  of  Augustus,  and 
sometimes  Rome  had  three  or  four  emperors 
at  once.  Similarly  the  title  of  Augustus  in 
the  Senate  is  divided.  Associated  with  Mr. 
Aldrich,  at  the  time  the  comic  paper  became 
thus  unwittingly  philosophic,  were  four  other 
emperors,  Messrs.  Hale  of  Maine,  Spooner  of 
Wisconsin,  Allison  of  Iowa  and  Piatt  of  Con- 
necticut. 

Now  his  colleagues  are  only  three.  In  the 
early  months  of  1905  Piatt  died,  and  the 
vacancy  remains  unfilled.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  it  ever  should  be  filled,  though  it  doubt- 
less will  be,  in  the  course  of  time.  The 
power  lodged  in  him  he  won  by  merit ;  it  will 
not  devolve  upon  any  one,  but  it  may  again  be 
won  by  merit. 

The  second  implication  is  that  the  empire 
is  unchallenged.  A  year  or  more  before  the 
second  inauguration  of   President  Roosevelt 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  27 

this  would  have  been  true.  Within  that  space 
of  time  the  new  speaker  had  manifested  such 
a  lusty  disposition  to  revive  the  vanished 
powers  of  his  office  that  even  the  mighty  Aid- 
rich  had  been  forced  reluctantly  to  turn  to 
him  a  bored  and  pettish  ear.  There  are  also 
stray  indications  that  at  some  time  in  the  near 
future  the  president  of  the  United  States  may 
place  himself  across  the  path  of  the  Senate 
machine,  though  he  has  not  done  so  yet. 

These  inaccuracies  do  not  necessarily  indi- 
cate ignorance  on  the  part  of  the  comic  phi- 
losopher, but  are  attributable  rather  to  the 
exigency  of  epigram.  It  is  not  possible  to 
say  everything  in  a  sentence. 

The  four  bosses  of  the  Senate  can  and  do 
control  that  body.  This  means  that  these 
four  men  can  block  and  defeat  anything  that 
the  president  or  the  House  may  desire.  It 
necessarily  follows  that  they  must  be  respect- 
fully consulted  on  every  proposition ;  and 
this  carries  with  it  the  further  implication 
that  pretty  nearly  everything  they  want  to  do 
they  can  do.  The  result  is  that  these  five 
men,  Piatt  being  included,  have  often  shaped 
the  policy  of  the  United  States.  On  many  an 
occasion,  not  at  all  remote,  it  has  been  simple 
fact  and  not  hyperbole  that  these  five  men 
were  the  government  of  the  United  States. 


28  SENATE  POETllAltS 

The  rule  of  the  bosses  of  the  House  machine 
is  a  simple  matter,  easily  explained.  They 
rule  the  House  not  because  of  any  towering 
ability,  but  because  they  are  on  the  Rules 
Committee,  which  can  tie  up  any  legislation 
^nd  has  the  House  by  the  throat  all  the  time. 
But  the  rule  of  the  Senate  bosses  is  founded 
on  a  principle  a  little  more  complex. 

The  two  great  committees  of  the  Senate  are 
Appropriations  and  Finance.  Of  Appropria- 
tions Allison  is  the  chairman,  and  he  and 
Hale  control  the  committee.  There  is  no 
other  member  of  it  who  has  the  ability  to 
cope  with  them,  or  the  courage  either.  Aid- 
rich  is  chairman  of  Finance,  and  associated 
with  him  on  the  committee  are  Allison  and 
Spooner,  and,  until  his  death,  Piatt ;  and  these 
four  men  ran  that  committee. 

The  Republican  Steering  Committee  con- 
sists of  nine  members,  and  the  five  bosses  con- 
trolled the  Steering  Committee.  All  the  im- 
portant committees  of  the  Senate  are  so  con- 
structed as  to  be  easily  controllable  by  the 
associated  Caesars  of  the  Senate  empire. 

But  after  all  this  has  been  said,  another 
potent  factor  in  their  rule,  not  the  least  potent, 
remains.  The  House  bosses  are  so  by  reason 
of  their  official  position,  and  whether  they 
are  men  of  ability  or  not  has  nothing  to  do 


WILLIAM    B.    ALLISON. 
The  sage  old  pilot  of  the  Senate." 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  m 

with  the  case.  Men  of  no  special  ability  can 
run  the  House  as  well  as  Cannon,  Payne, 
Grosvenor  and  Dalzell.  But  the  Senate  bosses 
are  men  of  might. 

The  day  of  great  debates  in  the  Senate  is 
not  gone,  as  is  erroneously  supposed  ;  the  only 
difference  is  that  the  great  debates  are  not 
held  in  the  public  eye  and  never  leak  into 
the  public  ear.  The  great  debates  of  the 
Senate  for  years  have  been  held  in  whatever 
room  Allison,  Aldrich,  Hale,  Spooner  and 
Piatt  of  Connecticut  may  have  been  gathered 
to  decide  what  should  be  the  policy  of  these 
United  States  on  a  given  subject. 

The  public  '^  debates  "  to  which  the  eager- 
eyed  tourists  listen  so  reverently  are  in  the 
nature  of  a  dramatic  performance.  They  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  legislation  to  be  en- 
acted. While  senators  are  going  through  the 
motions  of  arguing  a  great  question,  the  real 
debate  is  taking  place  or  has  already  taken 
place  in  some  little  room  where  two  or  three 
are  gathered  together.  Oftentimes  the  real 
debate  is  over  and  the  whole  question  -settled 
before  ever  the  mock  debate  in  the  Senate 
begins.  ^ 

Some  of  the  four  bosses  occasionally  con- 
descend to  take  part  in  the  mock  debates  on 
the  Senate  floor.     But  when  they  do  so  it  is 


30  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

in  their  capacity  as  politicians,  not  as  legis- 
lators. They  are  saying  such  things  as  they 
think  should  be  published  for  the  benefit  of 
their  political  party.  The  performance  has 
nothing  in  the  remotest  way  to  do  with  legis- 
lation. The  legislation  has  been  settled  in 
the  private  debates. 

No  one  should  suppose  these  private  debates 
to  be  restricted  to  the  four  bosses.  Other 
senators  take  part  in  them.  When  a  great 
question  steps  into  the  Senate  and  asks  to  be 
settled,  those  senators  who  have  ideas  about  the 
solution  express  them,  not  in  the  Senate  but 
in  private  forums.  The  question  is  thrashed 
out  there,  the  four  bosses  agree  on  which  of 
the  plans  proposed  should  be  adopted,  and 
then  begins  the  solemn  mock  debate  in  the 
Senate. 

If  these  real  debates  were  reported  as  the 
stage  debates  in  open  Senate  are,  the  litera- 
ture of  American  oratory  would  be  enriched 
— not  by  flowers  of  speech,  but  by  downright, 
direct,  sledge-hammer  arguments.  Oftentimes 
the  four  bosses  disagree.  They  fight  out 
their  disagreements,  come  to  a  conclusion  by 
rule  of  the  majority,  and  then  solidly  stand 
together  for  the  result. 

The  secrets  of  death  are  not  more  closely 
guarded  than  the  secrets  of  these  real  debates, 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  31 

the  debates  which  decide  the  policies  of  the 
United  States  and  make  history.  Seldom  is 
it  that  any  vaguest  rumor  of  the  differences  in 
the  camp  of  the  four  Caesars  trickles  through 
the  cracks  in  those  closed  doors.  When  they 
reappear  in  the  public  view  they  are  united 
and  are  handing  out  their  orders  to  their  fol- 
lowers, and  the  differences  which  preceded  the 
agreement  may  never  be  known  even  to  their 
colleagues. 

One  exception  was  in  the  settlement  of  the 
fate  of  the  Philippine  Islands.  It  did  become 
known  that  Spooner  and  Hale  disagreed 
vehemently  with  the  ''  imperialist "  policy, 
and  that  the  battles  in  the  councils  of  the  Big 
Five  were  protracted  and  exciting.  But  when 
the  doors  were  thrown  open  and  the  mock  de- 
bate in  the  Senate  began,  Spooner  was  the 
spokesman  chosen  to  put  forward  the  ''  im- 
perialist "  policy,  and  he  did  it  with  the  fire 
and  power  which  characterize  all  his  utter- 
ances in  the  mock  debates. 

So  great  a  man  is  Spooner  in  the  mock  de- 
bates that  no  man  can  question  the  deep  loss 
to  American  literature  resulting  from  the 
failure  to  report  his  speeches  in  the  real  de- 
bates. 

It  has  been  said  above  that  the  five  bosses 
have  ruled  not  merely  by  virtue  of  the  way 


32  SENATE  POETRAITS 

they  interpenetrate  the  really  potent  commit- 
tees of  the  Senate,  but  also  by  virtue  of  in- 
tellectual might.  This  means  not  only  the 
ability  of  the  statesman,  but  also  the  genius 
for  control  of  men. 

No  man  has  such  a  mastery  of  the  latter 
science  as  the  silent  Aldrich,  he  who,  almost 
alone  of  the  Senate  bosses,  disdains  the  farce 
of  mixing  in  the  mock  debates. 

Aldrich  is  a  chess  player  with  men.  No 
one  in  the  Senate  and  few  outside  it  equal 
him  in  that  peculiar  talent  which  gives  one 
man  the  mastery  of  others. 

It  is  but  seldom  that  his  voice  is  heard  on 
the  floor,  and  when  he  does  speak  it  is  always 
as  an  actor.  He  hardly  conceals  the  fact  that 
he  breaks  his  silence  merely  to  make  a  polit- 
ical point.  His  part  in  the  machine  is  that  of 
political  manager.  A  type  more  irreconcil- 
able with  the  vulgar  political  boss  can  hardly 
be  imagined.  He  is  a  handsome  man  with 
piercing  eyes  and  a  flowing  white  mustache. 
He  is  a  gentleman,  a  man  of  pleasant  address 
and  with  a  voice  agreeable  to  hear ;  but  there 
is  about  him  a  constant  indefinable  impres- 
sion of  power  and  command,  the  product  of 
long  habit  in  ruling  men. 

Allison  is  the  man  of  experience,  the  sage 
old  pilot  of  the  Senate.      They  say  that  no 


I 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  33 

man  who  has  ever  been  in  the  Senate  knew  so 
much  about  it  as  he  does.  He  is  the  political 
forecaster,  the  compromiser,  the  weather 
prophet,  the  man  who  brings  irreconcilable 
things  together.  It  is  said  that  the  oldest 
inhabitant  cannot  recall  having  heard  Allison 
give  utterance  to  an  opinion  on  any  subject 
whatever.  Doubtless  he  does  give  utter- 
ance to  them,  but  never  except  in  the  inner 
councils  of  the  Csesars.  Sagacious  to  the 
point  of  craft,  it  does  not  annoy  him  to 
know  that  the  epithet  most  frequently  applied 
to  him  is  "  the  Old  Fox." 

He  looks  the  Solon,  with  his  massive 
leonine  head  and  its  immense  forehead  and 
mass  of  gray  hair.  When  he  rises  in  his 
place  in  the  Senate,  he  disdains  to  talk  as  if 
he  were  making  a  speech ;  he  leaves  all  that 
to  the  youngsters,  whose  sum  of  knowledge 
does  not  equal  all  that  he  has  forgotten.  He 
never  rises  except  to  shed  light  on  some 
knotty  point,  and  when  he  does  it  is  always 
as  briefly  as  possible,  and  in  a  conversational 
voice  that  is  almost  an  undertone.  Then  he 
drops  back  into  his  seat  and,  with  sublime  in- 
difference, lets  the  talk  go  on. 

In  that  part  of  the  United  States  which  lies 
outside  the  city  of  Washington,  it  was  cus- 
tomary to  refer  to  Piatt  as  "  Piatt  of  Connecti- 


34  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

cut."  In  Washington  there  was  no  such  cus- 
tom. When  one  spoke  in  Washington  of 
Piatt,  it  was  assumed  that  of  course  he  spoke 
of  the  Connecticut  man,  the  great  Piatt,  un- 
less he  specifically  added  the  words  "  of  New 
York.'^  It  was  but  seldom  that  this  occurred, 
for  Piatt  of  New  York  has  no  more  influence 
on  legislation  in  Washington  than  the  corusca- 
tions of  a  lightning-bug  have  on  the  solar 
system.  He  goes  his  way  unregarded  and  not 
discussed ;  and  it  was  an  uneventful  day  in 
which  the  name  of  the  other  Piatt  was  not 
heard  in  corridor  gossip  on  the  day's 
topics. 

A  mild,  stately  old  gentleman  with  a  long 
white  beard  and  deep  furrows  under  his  eyes ; 
quiet  of  manner  and  soft  of  voice,  tall  and 
angular  of  frame,  who  seemed  to  have  a  diffi- 
culty in  disposing  of  all  his  bones,  with  a 
frame  like  Lincoln  and  the  face  and  manner 
of  a  pastor  emeritus — that  was  Piatt,  the  con- 
structive legislator  of  the  Senate  machine. 

These  three  gentlemen  of  scanty  speech  are 
but  little  known  to  the  public  except  by 
name.  It  is  different  with  the  other  two, 
Spooner  is  the  orator  and  the  lawyer,  and  he 
conducts  the  public  battles  of  the  machine. 
He  and  Piatt  were  regarded  as  the  statesmen 
of  the  combination.     He   is  an   enthralling 


ORVILLE    H.    PLATT. 
"  The  face  and  manner  of  a  pastor- emeritus." 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  35 

speaker,  a  man  whose  words  are  of  fire  and 
whose  arguments  are  of  iron.  He  has  not  his 
match  in  the  Senate  except  perhaps  Bailey. 
When,  deserting  his  desk  and  taking  the 
aisle,  Spooner  swings  his  short  form  from  one 
side  of  the  aisle  to  the  other,  hurling  his  hand 
like  a  weapon  at  the  Democratic  side,  every 
man  in  the  Senate  is  in  his  seat  and  listening 
with  all  his  ears.  It  is  an  intellectual  treat 
of  the  first  order. 

Hale  is  less  under  the  necessity  of  observing 
the  rule  of  secrecy  about  differences  in  the 
councils  of  the  Big  Four  than  any  of  the 
others.  He  often  blurts  out  in  the  open  Sen- 
ate his  sublime  disregard  of  the  prevailing 
policy  ;  but  he  observes  the  rule  of  the  major- 
ity so  far  as  not  to  fight  it  except  in  the  inner 
councils  of  the  Board  of  Control. 

He  looks  as  little  like  the  three  mild- 
spoken  bosses  first  mentioned  as  does  the 
fiery  Spooner.  He  is  a  red-faced  man  with  a 
pointed  gray  beard  and  a  countenance  made 
up  for  war.  He  looks  always  as  if  he  were 
getting  ready  for  a  fight  with  somebody ;  and 
when  he  does  speak  the  most  biting  irony 
falls  from  his  lips  in  measured,  unemotional 
tones.  Unlike  Spooner,  he  does  not  go  into 
the  aisle  and  wave  his  fist.  He  stands  by  his 
desk,  holding  the  corners  of  it  rigidly,  and 


36  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

lets  his  boiling  sarcasm  drip  word  by  word, 
or  drop  by  drop. 

Prior  to  the  present  session  he  seldom 
ventured  into  the  range  of  public  vision. 
When  he  did,  it  was  generally  in  the  atti- 
tude of  serving  notice  on  somebody  that 
this  nonsense  must  stop.  When  Hale  is  in- 
terviewed it  is  a  significant  event ;  it  is  not 
an  interview,  it  is  an  occurrence  in  history. 
An  interview  from  (not  with)  him  is  an  an- 
nouncement of  the  policy  of  the  government ; 
an  interview  with  any  one  of  the  Senate  rank 
and  file  is  merely  an  interview. 

None  of  the  other  three  is  ever  interviewed. 
Whether  the  Senate  bosses  have  deputed  that 
role  to  Hale  or  not  cannot  be  known.  An 
interview  with  him  appears  with  the  rarity  of 
a  comet.  But  when  it  comes  it  is  generally 
like  the  roar  of  a  lion  or  a  blast  of  dynamite. 
After  the  interview  the  air  is  full  of  debris 
for  awhile,  and  then  things  proceed  to  shape 
themselves  in  accordance  with  the  interview. 

It  may  be  remembered  that  there  w^as  con- 
siderable talk  of  tariff  revision  at  the  last  ses- 
sion of  the  Fifty-eighth  Congress  until  Mr. 
Hale,  for  the  first  time  in  a  couple  of  years, 
was  interviewed. 

No,  the  comic  paper  was  not  saying  any- 
thing funny  ;  it  was  verging  closely  on  things 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  37 

so  serious  as  to  be  almost  sad.  And  yet  the 
"  running  of  the  United  States  "  by  the  ma- 
chine of  which  Mr.  Aldrich  is  the  head  is  not 
nearly  so  absolute  now  as  it  was  a  year  or  two 
ago.  The  history  of  the  next  four  years  will 
be  interesting,  and  may  perhaps  record  a 
change  in  the  American  form  of  government ; 
not  in  the  theoretical  form  recorded  in  the 
text-books,  but  the  real  form.  Persons  to 
whom  this  is  a  consummation  devoutly  to  be 
wished  are  glad  to  see  that  Speaker  Cannon 
was  never  healthier  and  that  Mr.  Roosevelt 
shows  no  signs  of  consumption. 


II 

HALE,  THE  KEW  FLOOE  LEADER 

The  current  session  of  Congress  has  pro- 
duced a  realignment  of  leadership  in  the  Sen- 
ate. Mr.  Gorman's  virtual  disappearance  has 
left  Mr.  Bailey  the  foremost  figure  on  the 
Democratic  side,  despite  his  refusal  to  take  the 
nominal  chieftainship,  and  whoever  may  be 
elected  to  that  position  Bailey  will  continue 
to  be  the  man  who  really  directs  Democratic 
policies. 

On  the  Republican  side  Mr.  Hale  has  come 
to  the  front  as  the  floor  leader.  This  is  no 
sudden  revolution.  For  years  Mr.  Hale  has 
been  forging  quietly  to  the  front,  and  he  has 
now  stepped  into  the  position  to  which  great 
ability  entitles  him  and  for  which  long  ex- 
perience has  been  preparing  him.  He  has 
long  been  one  of  the  most  potent  forces  in 
that  little  clique  generally  known  as  the 
senatorial  oligarchy,  which  rules  the  Senate. 
Now  he  is  its  foremost  figure. 

This  is  not  to  intimate  that  Senator  Aldrich 
has  been  unhorsed  or  driven  from  power. 
He  is  a  great  manager,  and  is  not  in  conflict 

•38 


EUGENE    HALE. 

A  grim-visaged  man,  red  of  face,  with  a  sort  of  war-map  all 
over  it." 


SENATE  PORTKAITS  39 

with  Mr.  Hale  on  any  important  point.  Of 
late  years  he  has  manifested  less  and  less  dis- 
position to  take  on  himself  the  responsibilities 
of  active  leadership.  He  is  the  chess-player 
of  the  senate,  the  wire-puller,  the  manager  of 
votes.  But  Hale  has  come  to  be  the  great 
force  in  arranging  party  policies. 

By  Democrats  and  Republicans  alike  Mr. 
Hale  is  to-day  recognized  as  "  the  leader  of 
the  Senate."  The  words  are  put  in  quotation 
marks  because,  question  anybody  you  will, 
they  are  the  ones  in  which  he  is  described. 

It  is  a  distinct  gain  for  public  life  that  Mr. 
Hale  has  come  to  take  that  position.  There 
are  men  of  as  ripe  experience  as  his,  such  as 
Mr.  Allison ;  there  are  men  of  as  great  inde- 
pendence as  his ;  there  are  men  as  sagacious 
and  broad  of  view,  and  there  are  men  of  his 
iron  determination  and  tremendous  force. 
But  the  combination  is  his  alone,  so  far  as  the 
Senate  is  concerned. 

He  is  not  a  poser.  He  is  not  fond  of 
speechmaking.  He  is  simply  a  great  worker 
and  a  man  who  stands  absolutely  immovable 
amid  public  clamor  and  private  pressure. 
There  is  no  more  erect  man  in  public  life. 

Congress  is  not  a  debating  society.  Its 
work  is  not  done  by  speeches.  It  is  done  in 
private  confabs.     These  confabs  are  often  par- 


40  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

ticipated  in  by  not  more  than  half  a  dozen 
men.  Of  late  years  they  have  been  held 
mostly  in  Hale's  little  committee-room.  In 
that  room  the  nation's  policies  have  been 
decided. 

It  is  worth  while  to  know  something  about 
Hale,  for  at  the  present  moment  he  and 
Speaker  Cannon  and  President  Roosevelt  are 
the  men  who  are  making  the  history  of  the 
United  States,  if  any  three  men  can  be  said  to 
do  so. 

He  is  a  grim-visaged  man,  red  of  face,  with 
a  sort  of  war-map  all  over  it,  and  it  terminates 
in  a  pugnacious  iron-gray  beard  with  an  ag- 
gressive point  at  the  end  of  it.  He  is  square 
of  body,  and  his  head,  well-built  as  it  is,  car- 
ries out  the  warlike  appearance  of  the  rest  of 
him.  He  never  delivers  orations.  When  he 
is  compelled  to  drop  a  few  tons  of  common 
sense  into  a  debate,  he  does  it  in  the  briefest 
possible  compass  of  sentences.  While  he  is 
doing  it  he  holds  on  to  the  corners  of  his  desk 
tightly,  with  both  hands.  He  speaks  with  an 
aggravating  deliberation  and  without  empha- 
sis. A  sort  of  sandy  grain  runs  through  his 
voice,  which  is  extra  dry. 

He  opposed  the  Spanish  war,  which  was 
about  the  most  unpopular  thing  a  man  could 
do.     Any  blatherskite  could  win  the  halo  of 


SENATE  PORTEAITS  41 

a  patriot  by  whooping  it  up.  Hale,  doubtless, 
was  wrong ;  but  his  mind  was  made  up  in  his 
usual  deliberate,  careful  fashion,  and  when 
once  made  up  it  was  as  unchangeable  as  the 
combined  minds  of  all  the  men  who  enacted 
all  the  codes  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 

In  Maine,  where  they  were  sending  men  to 
the  front,  Hale's  action  was  resented.  But 
they  stick  in  Maine  to  a  good  old  custom  of 
giving  their  representatives  free  rein  in  matters 
of  principle.  They  look  on  those  things  as 
Edmund  Burke  did,  and  Hale  was  reelected. 
He  knew,  however,  when  he  took  that  un- 
popular ground  that  he  was  in  danger  of 
making  Maine  do  that  almost  unprecedented 
thing  in  that  State — turn  down  one  of  her 
senators  for  reelection. 

Then  he  opposed  the  Philippine  War.  He 
did  not  get  so  much  fame  out  of  it  as  Senator 
Hoar,  because  he  did  not  deliver  orations  of 
that  senator's  kind.  But  he  opposed  it  none 
the  less,  though  he  was  one  of  the  senatorial 
oligarchy. 

He  is  as  independent  of  President  Roosevelt 
as  of  everybody  else.  He  has  opposed  and 
thwarted  the  president  on  his  naval  extension 
programme  and  other  matters.  But  he  is 
not  one  of  the  senators  who  secretly  oppose 
Roosevelt  while  pretending  to  support  him. 


42  SENATE  PORTEAITS 

On  the  contrary  he  is  about  the  best  friend 
the  president  has  in  the  Senate,  for  his  sup- 
port of  Roosevelt  where  he  can  support  him 
is  sincere  and  his  opposition  is  openly  and 
frankly  expressed  at  the  White  House.  Hale 
is  one  of  the  very  few  men  who  can  tell  the 
truth  to  Roosevelt  when  they  oppose  him,  for 
the  president  trusts  the  senator  and  respects 
him. 

By  virtue  of  his  new  position  as  leader  he 
has  been  more  at  the  front  and  has  been 
obliged  to  deliver  more  speeches  at  this  ses- 
sion than  ever  before.  But  he  does  not  like 
senatorial  speechmaking,  and  never  speaks 
except  when  it  is  absolutely  necessary.  When 
he  does  he  compresses  his  utterance  into  the 
fewest  possible  words  and  then  drops  into  his 
seat  with  a  thud  and  crosses  his  legs  and  leans 
back  in  his  chair  as  if  he  never  meant  to 
make  a  speech  again.  This  does  not  mean 
that  he  is  a  poor  speaker.  On  the  contrary, 
the  words  of  no  senator  are  listened  to  with 
such  breathless  interest  by  his  colleagues — not 
even  those  of  Aldrich.  That  sandy  grain  in 
his  dry  voice  accentuates  the  cutting  satire 
with  which  he  sometimes  speaks.  He  can  dis- 
miss a  subject  with  magnificent  contempt  in  a 
way  that  few  senators  can  equal. 

He  is  what  in  Maine  they  call  an  ''  Oxford 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  43 

Bear."  That  is  what  they  call  the  men  from 
Oxford  County,  that  fine  little  breeding-ground 
of  strong  men  to  the  northeast  of  Portland, 
where  Lake  Pennesseewassee  is.  There  have 
been  many  Oxford  Bears  who  have  won  high 
place  in  the  nation,  but  none  to  whom  the 
word  seems  more  thoroughly  applicable  than 
to  Hale.  The  square-built  man  with  the 
angry  square  face  looks  the  part.  If  you 
knew  that  a  certain  breed  of  Maine  men  were 
called  Oxford  Bears,  and  you  met  Hale  and 
were  told  that  he  came  from  Maine,  you 
would  put  him  down  instinctively  as  one. 

He  disposes  of  immense  quantities  of  work. 
They  wonder  in  the  Senate  how  he  can  do  it 
with  so  little  excitement.  Hale  tells  them 
that  it  is  because  he  has  learned  how  to  work, 
and  that  when  a  man  complains  of  overwork 
there  must  be  something  the  matter  with  his 
method.  He  has  been  a  national  figure  for 
nearly  forty  years.  He  has  read  omnivo- 
rously  for  many  years  on  legislation.  Now  he 
seldom  reads  on  that  subject ;  he  reads  gen- 
eral literature.  The  reason  is  that  in  forty 
years  he  has  arrived  at  such  a  command  of 
national  legislation  that  there  is  little  he  can 
get  out  of  a  book.  He  comes  nearer  than 
any  other  man  in  public  life  to  knowing  it 
all. 


44  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

If  the  real  landmarks  of  American  history 
were  known  as  well  as  those  battle-fields  where 
nothing  was  decided,  but  where  guides  are 
hired  to  tell  the  story,  men  would  be  em- 
ployed to  point  out  Hale's  committee-room. 
That  is  where  the  course  of  history  for  the 
United  States  has  come  to  be  determined  of 
late  years. 

It  is  the  committee-room  of  naval  affairs, 
for  he  is  chairman  of  that  committee.  It  is 
a  little  room,  and  may  have  been  too  small 
sometimes  for  the  men  who  came  to  decide  on 
the  nation's  policy ;  but  that  cannot  often 
have  been  the  case,  for  it  does  not  take  many 
men  to  do  that. 

In  it,  alongside  his  table,  is  a  rocking-chair 
of  the  kind  you  see  in  every  well-regulated 
Maine  farmhouse.  You  know  the  Maine 
rocking-chair  ;  there  is  a  distinctive  character 
about  it  that  you  don't  find  in  any  other  kind 
of  chair. 

Hale  comes  here  a  week  before  Congress 
convenes  and  busies  himself  fixing  up  senato- 
rial policies.  He  plunges  into  work  and  never 
looks  up  until  about  the  middle  of  February. 
Then,  being  a  sane  man  who  knows  how  to 
protect  his  health,  he  takes  a  week's  vacation. 
In  former  years  he  would  go  to  Virginia. 
Now   he   knows   better.      He   goes   home   to 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  45 

Maine  and  plunges  into  the  depths  of  a 
shrieking,  windy  Maine  winter.  There  he 
stays,  along  the  coast,  breathing  that  man- 
making  air,  and  comes  back  refreshed  and 
ready  for  the  rest  of  the  session. 

Under  his  leadership  the  Senate  and  the 
House  have  grown  into  better  relations.  He 
and  Speaker  Cannon  are  very  fond  of  each 
other.  They  are  chums.  Now  and  then  it 
becomes  necessary  for  the  House  to  hurl  a 
shriek  of  defiance  at  the  Senate.  It  does  so 
with  Hale's  full  concurrence,  and  then  things 
jog  along  as  before. 

He  is  fond  of  sea  trips,  and  is  a  true  son  of 
the  salt  air.  He  likes  to  breathe  it  on  trips 
with  congenial  speakers  of  the  House  and  secre- 
taries of  the  navy.  It  was  on  one  such  trip  that 
he  offered  the  canal  chairmanship  to  Shonts. 

He  is  a  pretty  big,  wise,  broad  man,  and 
yet  he  is  a  thorough  partisan.  When  he  has 
to  oppose  his  party  it  is  not  with  tears,  as  did 
Senator  Hoar,  but  with  his  usual  grim-visaged 
and  emotionless  manner  ;  and  yet  it  hurts 
him,  because  of  his  intense  partisanship.  His 
principal  differences  with  his  party  of  late 
years  have  been  upon  war  issues.  Concern- 
ing these  differences  a  friend  quotes  him  as 
saying  in  a  private  conversation,  and  it  is  a 
pretty  fair    measure  of  the  broad-gauge  way 


46  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Hale  looks  on  the  questions  that  come  before 
him  : 

''  Every  generation  desires  war.  Peace  is  a 
question  of  how  soon  the  generation  gets  its 
fill.  The  generation  of  the  Civil  War  got 
enough  to  see  what  it  meant.  The  present 
generation  got  only  a  taste  in  the  Spanish 
skirmish,  and  is  eager  for  more." 

So  he  knows  that  he  is  against  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  and  yet  has  the  courage  to  take  that 
stand.  Not  everybody  in  Washington  has 
that  particular  kind  of  courage. 


Ill 

THE  RECEEATIONS  OF  JOHK  C.  SPOOLER 

The  bright  spring  days  when  mankind  and 
especially  womankind  gravitates  to  Washing- 
ton on  excursion  tickets  and  throngs  the 
Senate  galleries  are  the  days  when  the  fame 
of  the  Hon.  John  C.  Spooner  goes  traveling  to 
all  parts  of  the  country  on  every  home-bound 
train.  They  are  seed  days  for  Spooner,  and 
his  harvest  of  reputation  is  later  garnered  in 
every  home  that  has  sent  an  eager-eyed 
tourist  to  Washington  in  the  spring. 

For  some  reason,  although  everybody  has 
heard  Spooner's  name,  the  man  himself  is  not 
so  well  known  as  many  a  senator  far  inferior 
to  him  in  ability.  Because  of  this  he  dawns 
on  the  tourist  as  a  surprise,  and  when  the 
tourist  goes  back  home  he  is  fuller  of  Spooner 
than  of  any  other  sight  of  Washington. 
Spooner  is  certainly  the  great  feature  of  the 
annual  spring  pilgrimage  to  the  capital. 

To  everybody  in  Washington,  Spooner  is 
known  as  far  and  away  the  best  debater  in  the 
Senate.  In  a  debate  he  is  the  biggest  gun  the 
Republicans   have,  and  they  rush  him  into 

47 


48  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

service  and  fire  him  ofi*  whenever  there  is  a 
stress  of  Democratic  attack.  He  is  always 
primed  and  ready. 

There  is  much  of  mischief  about  Spooner's 
make-up.  He  delights  in  malicious  drollery, 
and  longs  continually  to  prod  some  Democrat 
into  undue  heat  which  will  make  the 
Democrat  ridiculous  and  supply  grinning 
material  for  the  galleries.  And  when  he  sets 
himself  about  this  task  he  seldom  fails.  He 
does  it  in  a  casual,  inconsequent  sort  of  way, 
to  the  never-ending  surprise  and  delight  of 
the  tourist- filled  galleries. 

The  Senate  is  droning  along  in  a  sleepy 
debate.  Some  prosy  senator  has  the  floor; 
the  chamber  is  half  empty,  and  nobody  is 
paying  any  attention  to  the  speaker.  The 
door  opens  and  the  mischievous  Spooner 
drifts  in.  He  stands  in  the  aisle  a  moment 
with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  surveying 
the  pastoral  scene.  He  catches  the  last  sen- 
tence of  the  droning  senator — the  only  one  he 
has  heard  in  the  speech — and  it  supplies  him 
with  a  text.  In  his  suave  and  gentle  manner 
he  begs  leave  to  interrupt.  Instantly  every 
senatorial  eye  is  fixed  on  Spooner  and  his 
victim,  and  a  fearful  joy  fills  every  senatorial 
face.  In  a  moment  the  scene  is  transformed  ; 
the  prosy  senator  is  talking  four  ways  at  once, 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  49 

and  with  every  sentence  of  his  comes  an  inter- 
ruption from  Spooner,  barbed  with  sarcasm. 
The  other  senator  is  perspiring  and  red-faced ; 
he  has  forgotten  what  he  meant  to  say,  and 
is  getting  into  deeper  water  every  moment. 
Some  other  senator  rushes  to  his  aid,  and  in 
a  moment  the  mischief-maker  from  Wisconsin 
has  them  both  tangled  up  and  is  juggling 
with  them  like  a  sleight-of-hand  man  who  is 
keeping  a  lot  of  glass  balls  in  the  air  at  once. 
When  he  has  got  the  Senate  thoroughly 
waked  up  and  his  victims  desperate,  he  grins 
a  wide,  satisfied  grin,  and  steps  out  again 
amid  a  sigh  of  regret  from  the  gallery. 

He  is  the  Robin  Goodfellow  of  the  Senate, 
and  looks  not  unlike  that  mischievous  wight. 
He  has  a  large  face,  a  short,  plump  body, 
wavy  hair,  a  smile  with  a  comical  twirl  in  it, 
and  eyes  that  are  always  glinting  with  half- 
malicious  humor.  No  man  is  so  dreaded  by 
the  Democrats,  and  some  of  them  will  go 
almost  to  the  point  of  rudeness  to  avoid  one 
of  his  terrifying  interruptions. 

When  Spooner  himself  is  making  a  speech 
every  senator  is  in  his  place  and  listening 
hard,  for  it  is  sure  to  be  eloquent  and  power- 
ful, as  well  as  sharp  and  witty.  The  Demo- 
crats fight  shy  of  interrupting  him  and  bring- 
ing down  one  of  his  landslide  retorts,  but, 


60  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

nevertheless,  his  speeches  are  fuller  of  inter- 
ruptions than  those  of  any  other  senator. 
Spooner  causes  this  himself,  and  he  does  it  in 
a  characteristically  Spoonerian  way. 

The  Democrats  resolve  not  to  interrupt  and 
not  to  pull  down  the  avalanche,  but  they 
are  unable  to  keep  their  resolutions.  After 
Spooner  has  been  talking  long  enough  to  feel 
the  need  of  a  little  excitement,  he  turns  to- 
wards some  Democrat  and  waves  his  finger  at 
him.  He  bends  over  in  the  Democrat's  direc- 
tion and  shouts  sentence  after  sentence  di- 
rectly at  him.  They  sound  like  personal 
insults,  and  yet  when  you  read  the  speech 
over  in  the  Congressional  Record  it  turns  out 
that  what  Spooner  was  saying  had  no  relation 
whatever  to  his  victim.  Spooner  can  recite  a 
tariff  schedule  or  discuss  elementary  princi- 
ples of  civil  government  in  such  a  tone  of 
voice  that  it  seems  as  if  he  were  personally 
insulting  the  man  he  is  looking  at. 

After  awhile  the  Democrat  can  stand  it  no 
longer.  He  loses  control  of  himself,  bounds 
up,  and  interrupts.  This  is  what  Spooner  has 
been  working  for,  yet  he  immediately  assumes 
a  pathetic  air  of  baby-like  innocence  and 
grieved  resignation,  and  looks  to  the  chair 
for  protection  against  this  uncalled-for  inter- 
ruption.    This  proceeding  never  fails  to  com- 


JOHN   C.    SPOONER. 

He  is  the  Robin  Goodfellow  of  the  Senate,  and  looks  not  unlike 
that  mischievous  wight." 


I 


*  ,    c 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  51 

pletely  "  rattle  "  the  interrupter.  Sometimes 
Spooner  carries  this  fiendish  humor  of  his  so 
far  as  to  refuse  to  be  interrupted.  The  inter- 
rupter then  becomes  warm  and  insists,  and 
Spooner  gracefully  yields  and  lets  him  make 
the  interruption  Spooner  has  been  angling  for 
all  along;  and  it  brings  down  a  retort  that 
sounds  like  the  fall  of  a  trip-hammer,  and 
spells  confusion  for  the  interrupter. 

Although  this  is  a  regular  feature  of 
Spooner 's  method,  it  never  fails  to  work,  and 
never  fails  to  make  the  interrupting  senator 
appear  ridiculous.  At  the  moment  the  inter- 
rupter really  thinks  that  Spooner  has  been 
attacking  him,  such  is  the  deceptive  power  of 
Spooner^s  ferocious  manner ;  but  in  the  cold 
print  of  the  Record  there  is  nothing  to  show 
why  the  interruption  was  made,  and  it  always 
seems  foolish  and  irrelevant. 

One  day,  in  the  course  of  a  long  and  able 
speech,  Spooner  selected  Tillman  as  his  vic- 
tim. He  frequently  does,  for  he  delights  in 
spurring  Tillman  into  doing  things  that  look 
ridiculous,  and  the  impetuosity  of  the  South 
Carolinian's  temperament  makes  him  an  easy 
prey.  On  this  occasion  Spooner  ramped  up 
and  down  the  floor  in  front  of  Tillman,  wav- 
ing his  finger  at  him  and  keeping  his  fiery 
eye  fixed  upon  the  "  Pitchfork's  "  fierce  face. 


52  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

What  he  was  saying  had  no  more  to  do  with 
Tillman  than  the  man  in  the  moon.  At  last 
Tillman  became  so  restless  that  he  could  stand 
it  no  longer,  and,  leaping  to  his  feet,  he 
started  to  make  an  impetuous  reply.  In- 
stantly the  heat  disappeared  from  Spooner's 
manner  and  was  succeeded  by  the  baby  stare, 
and  in  a  voice  as  plaintive  as  the  cry  of  a 
wild  heron  and  a  tone  of  injured  innocence, 
the  sprite  of  the  Senate  asked  pathetically 
what  he  had  done  to  deserve  this  interruption. 

Tillman  was  so  surprised  that  he  fairly 
stuttered,  and  the  flood  of  eloquence  that  was 
boiling  in  him  choked  in  his  throat.  He 
tried  to  think  what  was  the  Spoonerian  insult 
which  had  goaded  him  to  rise,  and  could  not ; 
and  all  the  time  Spooner  was  looking  at  him 
with  a  resigned  air  and  folded  hands,  waiting 
for  the  explanation. 

''  Well— well— why,"  Tillman  blurted  out 
at  last ;  ''  anyway,  the  senator  looked  at  me." 

''  But  I  can't  help  looking  at  the  senator," 
meekly  answered  Robin  Goodfellow ;  "  he  is 
so  handsome." 

The  one-eyed  wielder  of  the  pitchfork 
started  to  say  something,  choked,  spluttered, 
and  fell  into  his  seat.  And  yet,  within  fif- 
teen minutes,  Spooner  was  doing  it  again,  and 
Tillman  was  on  his  feet  roaring  like  a  mad 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  53 

bull.  This  is  no  reflection  on  Tillman's  intelli- 
gence ;  no  other  senator  could  stand  Spooner's 
manner  any  better.  This  time,  having  goaded 
Tillman  into  interrupting,  Spooner  meekly 
gave  way,  with  a  sigh  of  protest,  and  let  Till- 
man begin  his  question  ;  but  after  Tillman 
had  uttered  one  sentence,  to  which  Spooner 
had  listened  as  one  thirsty  for  instruction,  the 
Wisconsin  senator  gave  a  violent  start,  pulled 
out  his  watch,  and  then  turned  quickly  to 
compare  it  with  the  Senate  clock. 

Tillman  attempted  to  go  on,  but  could  not. 
The  expression  of  rapt  interest  that  Spooner 
wore  as  he  conferred  with  the  clock  was  a 
death-blow  to  speech.  Tillman  stammered, 
forgot  what  he  wanted  to  say,  tried  to  think, 
gave  it  up,  and,  completely  ''  rattled, '^  burst 
out  furiously  with  : 

"Why  does  the  senator  look  at  the 
clock?'' 

Spooner's  eyes  dropped  from  the  clock  and 
sought  Tillman's  lone  orb  with  an  air  of  re- 
signed surprise.  ''  The  senator  does  not  own 
the  clock,"  he  said  in  a  mild,  remonstrating 
tone  of  voice. 

"  I  know  I  don't,"  replied  Tillman,  "  but— 
but  — —  "  and  then  he  gave  it  up  and  sat  down, 
sheepishly.  The  cold  type  of  the  Record,  of 
course,  made  this  occurrence  look  as  if  Till- 


61  SENATE  POETEAITS 

man  had  interrupted  causelessly  and  foolishly 
when  he  had  nothing  to  say. 

But  Spooner^s  chosen  victims  are  serious- 
minded  senators  like  Money,  who  are  not 
good  in  give-and-take  debate.  Money  dreads 
Spooner  as  he  does  the  plague.  When  he  is 
speaking  he  will  go  to  any  length  to  keep 
Spooner  from  interrupting.  Spooner  knows 
it,  and  when  Money  is  talking  the  Wisconsin 
man  sits  across  the  aisle  and  listens  to  him 
with  an  air  of  gentle  interest.  Money  cannot 
keep  his  eyes  off  Spooner,  and  momentarily 
dreads  an  interruption,  and  it  has  the  same 
encouraging  effect  upon  his  powers  of  oratory 
as  a  rattlesnake  coiled  in  the  next  seat  would 
have. 

One  day  while  Money  was  delivering  an  ex- 
tremely serious  speech  about  oleomargarine, 
Spooner  came  in,  and  as  the  door  closed  be- 
hind him  he  began  to  question  Money  about 
the  deleterious  effects  of  oleomargarine. 

"  Has  the  senator,"  demanded  Money,  ve- 
hemently, ''  ever  been  injured  by  eating  oleo- 
margarine ?  " 

"  No,  but  my  wife  has,"  answered  Spooner 
in  a  tone  of  passionate  regret,  and  Money  was 
so  surprised  that  he  gasped. 

Then  Spooner  took  the  floor  to  argue  against 
oleomargarine,  and  he  resorted  to  his  old  trick 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  55 

of  talking  directly  at  Money.  He  was  quoting 
legal  authorities,  but  it  sounded  for  all  the 
world  as  if  he  were  flaying  Money.  At  last 
the  Mississippian  was  forced  up  from  his  seat 
and  began  an  interruption. 

''  I  said  nothing  about  the  senator,"  said 
Spooner  in  a  pleading  voice. 

Money  smiled  feebly.  He  knew  the  trick, 
but  he  could  no  more  have  kept  his  seat  than 
he  could  have  kept  it  if  a  charge  of  dynamite 
had  been  touched  off  under  him.  ''  But  the 
senator  looked  at  me,"  he  said  weakly,  well 
knowing  how  it  would  look  in  the  Record. 

^'  If  the  senator  will  only  refrain  from  inter- 
rupting me,"  promised  Spooner,  ''  I  will  keep 
my  eyes  off*  his  face,  though  it  is  hard." 

These  are  but  the  recreations  of  Spooner. 
When  he  is  engaged  in  serious  business  things 
are  different.  Then  has  he  little  difficulty  in 
demonstrating  that  he  is  one  of  the  ablest 
men  in  the  Senate.  Then  is  every  seat  in  the 
Senate  taken,  then  do  the  newspapers  to  which 
senators  flee  for  refuge  during  speeches  dis- 
appear ;  then  does  calm  exultation  fill  every 
Republican  and  gloom  every  Democratic 
visage,  and  then  do  the  hardened  cynics  of 
the  press  gallery  forsake  the  story-telling 
nooks  in  their  own  quarters  and  throng  the 
seats  above  the  vice-president's  bead.     Which 


66  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

last  is  the  most  unaccustomed  sight  of 
all. 

For  years  Spooner  went  unchallenged  in 
the  Senate.  Then  a  new  senator,  Bailey  of 
Texas,  took  his  place  on  the  Democratic  side, 
whose  skill  in  debate  was  soon  proved  as  great 
as  Spooner 's  own.  From  the  first  Spooner 
was  under  no  illusions  about  Bailey  and  never 
assumed  his  tired  air  when  the  Texan  talked  ; 
and  when  they  clash  in  debate — as  they  often 
do,  for  the  two  men  seek  each  other — each 
recognizes  in  the  other  a  foeman  worthy  of 
his  steel.  Not  seldom  has  the  unconquered 
Spooner  been  obliged  to  draw  back  after  a 
duel  with  Bailey  and  admit  that  it  was  a 
drawn  battle. 

Frequenters  of  the  gallery  have  grown  to 
wish  that  a  debate  on  some  really  great  sub- 
ject may  arise  while  these  two  men  are  in  the 
Senate.  If  it  does,  it  is  a  moral  certainty  that 
the  clash  between  these  two  men  in  that  de- 
bate will  make  it  little  less  than  great. 


IV 


GEOEGE  FEISBIE  HOAE :  THE  LAST  OF 
A  L0:N^G  LINE 

With  the  death  of  George  Frisbie  Hoar, 
the  United  States  Senate,  as  it  was  once  known 
to  the  popular  imagination,  vanished.  He 
was  the  last  of  the  line.  He  was  the  last 
senator  whose  deportment,  behavior,  and 
words  would  not  have  been  strange  to  Sum- 
ner, Fessenden,  or  even  to  Webster. 

The  half-tender  feeling  with  which  the  ma- 
jority of  his  countrymen  regarded  Hoar  in 
his  later  years  was  unconsciously  due  to  the 
fact  that  he  was  a  survival.  In  his  earlier 
years  in  the  Senate  this  tribute  was  not  his. 
In  those  days  he  was  not  a  survival,  for  Ed- 
munds, Bayard,  Lamar,  and  others  of  a  dif- 
ferent type  than  the  modern  senator  were 
still  in  public  life,  and  Hoar  came  in  for  hard 
knocks.  He  came  to  stand  alone,  and  the 
public  mind  changed  towards  him  ;  his  faults 
were  glossed  over,  his  virtues  extolled,  and 
himself  became  the  object  of  an  affectionate 
veneration. 

67 


58  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Whenever  it  was  said  that  Hoar  was  one  of 
the  few  and  fast  disappearing  relics  of  a  van- 
ished senatorial  age,  the  retort  generally  was 
that  the  Senate  never  was  so  high  in  character 
and  average  ability  as  now.  This  may  be 
true,  but  the  kind  of  ability  has  unquestion- 
ably changed,  and  Hoar  did  stand  almost 
alone  as  a  representative  of  the  Senate  of  an 
elder  day. 

Blaine,  in  his  "  Twenty  Years  of  Congress," 
takes  up  a  page  with  the  names  of  the  great 
debaters  on  the  Compromise  of  1850,  and 
every  one  of  their  speeches  was  great.  Great 
debates  of  that  kind  cannot  be  held  in  the 
Senate  to-day.  Great  questions  may  arise,  and 
great  speeches  may  be  made  by  a  senator  or 
two — Spooner,  perhaps,  and  Bailey.  But  two 
senators  cannot  make  a  great  debate. 

Spooner,  with  his  statesmanlike  grasp,  his 
keen  wit  and  his  acutely  legal  mind  ;  Bailey, 
with  almost  the  same  equipment  and  a  pro- 
found knowledge  of  the  Constitution  ;  and 
Hoar,  with  his  high  ideals  and  his  perfect  lit- 
erary touch,  could  almost  have  made  a  great 
debate,  but  not  quite.  The  ability  of  the 
Senate  may  be  as  great  as  it  was  in  the  days 
of  Lamar  and  Thurman  and  Conkling  and 
Blaine.  But  there  is  no  likeness  to  the  tra- 
ditions of  the  past. 


GEORGE    FRISBIE    HOAR. 
A  lonely  reminder  of  a  vanished  Senate." 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  69 

Senatorial  ability  now  finds  its  expression 
in  the  silent  mastery  of  men,  the  chess-play- 
ing with  senators  for  pawns,  of  Aldrich  ;  the 
sturdy  common  sense  and  directness  of  the 
late  Mark  Hanna,  which  achieved  great  re- 
sults with  no  circumlocution  and  no  elo- 
quence ;  the  businesslike  and  downright 
speeches  of  Teller.  And  Hoar  at  last  seemed 
almost  a  pathetic  figure,  a  lonely  reminder  of 
a  vanished  Senate.  The  ability  may  be  as 
great,  the  results  are  as  great,  but  the  method 
has  changed  ;  and  with  the  rapid  increase  of 
simple  business  men  like  Dryden  and  Burn- 
ham  and  of  alert  young  politicians  like  Car- 
mack  and  Dick,  the  time  seems  short  when 
the  change  will  be  complete. 

The  change,  doubtless,  is  more  in  the  out- 
ward aspect  than  in  the  reality.  The  Senate 
does  not  look  so  statesmanlike  and  its  debates 
are  not  so  great.  But  Mr.  Hoar's  high  ideals 
did  not  always,  though  almost  always  they 
did,  prevent  him  from  meekly  accepting  a 
thing  he  had  denounced ;  while  so  strictly 
modern  a  senator  as  Bard  of  California — a 
business  man  throughout,  with  no  eloquence 
and  no  pretensions  to  statesmanship,  a  man 
who  cannot  even  make  a  speech — hesitated 
not  a  moment  to  defy  the  administration  and 
to  vote  the  way  he  talked.     There  is  none  of 


60  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

the  glamour  of  Webster's  day  about  the  busi- 
ness senator,  but  perhaps  what  the  country 
has  lost  has  been  more  in  what  touches  the 
imagination  than  in  what  appeals  to  the 
reason. 

The  key-note  of  all  Hoar's  speeches  was 
liberty  and  the  traditions  of  the  old-time  Re- 
public. Whether  he  was  right  or  wrong  in 
the  application  is  a  matter  of  opinion  ;  about 
the  fact  of  his  dominant  note  there  is  no  doubt 
whatever.  And  of  late  years,  as  he  had  come 
to  believe  that  the  Republic  was  drifting  from 
its  ancient  moorings,  there  was  an  added  in- 
sistence to  the  strain.  Liberty  and  constitu- 
tionalism, as  he  understood  them,  were  always 
his  guiding  spirits ;  and  he  battled  for  them 
with  added  vigor  as  he  felt  them  slipping 
away. 

Hoar  linked  the  old  with  the  new,  for  he 
was  in  Congress  when  senators  of  the  old  type 
were  still  fairly  numerous,  and  he  lived  to  be 
the  last  relic  of  that  type.  The  senators  of 
the  new  type  themselves  felt  and  acknowl- 
edged this  and  conceded  their  respect  to  Hoar. 
Even  when  they  attacked  him  in  debate,  some- 
times severely,  the  recognition  of  his  lone 
place  won  from  them  unusual  tributes.  In 
the  last  forensic  quarrel  in  which  Hoar  was  en- 
gaged, that  with   Senator  Foraker  over  the 


SENATE  PORTEAITS  61 

Panama  question,  where  both  men  were  striv- 
ing desperately  to  put  each  other  in  unpleas- 
ant positions,  there  was  an  incident  of  this 
kind — a  momentary  pause  in  the  battle  while 
Foraker  tendered  to  his  opponent  an  almost 
tender  tribute.  It  was,  at  that  stage  of  the 
fight,  a  duel  which  suggested  the  duels  of 
knighthood. 

Hoar  had  spoken  of  the  fact  that  since  the 
birth  of  the  Republican  party,  half  a  century 
before,  Massachusetts  had  kept  an  unbroken 
line  of  Republican  senators  at  Washington, 
and  he  had  mentioned  some  of  the  great, 
names  in  that  glorious  company.  He  had 
said,  with  a  melancholy  pride,  that  though  he 
was  the  humblest  and  least  worthy  of  that 
long  line,  Massachusetts  had  seen  fit  to  keep 
him  in  the  Senate  longer  than  any  other  of 
her  chosen  sons. 

Foraker  spoke  of  it  when  his  time  to  reply 
came ;  and  although  he  was  pillorying  Hoar 
for  his  attitude  on  the  Panama  question,  he 
said  this,  a  thing  very  different  from  the 
ordinary  meaningless  compliment  of  the 
senatorial  arena : 

"  I  will  go  further  and  say  in  this  presence 
what  I  know  every  member  of  this  body  on 
either  side  of  the  chamber  will  concur  in, 
that,  great  as  were  Webster  and  Sumner  and 


02  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

the  other  great  men  to  whom  he  referred,  they 
were  not  so  great  but  that  the  senior  senator 
from  Massachusetts  is  a  worthy  successor  in 
that  great  line.  There  is  not  a  man  here,  on 
either  side  of  this  chamber,  who  does  not  re- 
spect him  for  his  great  learning,  for  his  great 
ability,  for  his  zeal  in  the  public  welfare, 
for  his  fidelity  to  duty  in  all  the  relations  of 
life,  both  public  and  private." 

It  is  not,  however,  to  be  inferred  that  in 
the  Senate  the  affection  and  esteem  for  Hoar 
were  as  unmitigated  and  complete  as  in  the 
nation  at  large.  That  would  not  be  in  the 
course  of  nature.  The  nation  saw  only  Hoar's 
virtues ;  the  Senate  felt  the  unsparing  lash  of 
his  satire  and  wit,  and  no  man  in  all  that 
body  could  wield  so  sharp  a  weapon. 
Wounds  were  left ;  and  the  Republican 
senators,  pushing  a  policy  through,  were  often 
irritated  to  find  the  old  man  from  Massa- 
chusetts placing  himself  in  their  path  and 
bringing  to  the  blocking  of  their  programme 
ten  times  the  power  that  could  be  brought  by 
any  one  of  their  party  opponents.  This,  too, 
left  scars. 

But  such  scars  are  left  often  ;  there  is  not  a 
senator  who  has  not  irritated  or  offended  some 
other  senator  at  some  stage  of  his  career,  un- 
less, indeed,  it  be  some  agreeable  and  voiceless 


I 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  63 

person  like  Wetmore  of  Rhode  Island.  Even 
the  men  who  carried  the  deepest  scars  did  not 
withhold  from  their  venerable  antagonist  that 
feeling  to  which  Foraker  gave  vent. 

Oftentimes  he  was  wrong.  His  fight  against 
President  Arthur  when  the  latter  vetoed  the 
River  and  Harbor  bill  was  an  instance.  In 
his  earlier  years  in  the  Senate,  indeed,  he  had 
not  grown  to  his  full  proportions.  He  was  a 
more  violent  partisan.  He  was  always  a  par- 
tisan, but  in  his  later  years  that  partisanship 
mellowed. 

It  was  not  long  before  his  death,  for  ex- 
ample, that  he  delivered  on  the  Southern 
question  a  singularly  broad-minded  utterance, 
coming  from  a  New  England  statesmen.  It 
was  reprinted  with  surprise  and  delight  in 
the  South,  a  region  not  accustomed  to  have 
Massachusetts  Republicans  publicly  plead  for 
a  generous  recognition  of  the  difficulties  con- 
fronting the  South  in  her  treatment  of  her 
peculiar  problems.  The  Hoar  of  twenty  years 
ago  could  not  have  delivered  that  speech.  To 
him  the  South  was  '^  still  rebel." 

Mr.  Hoar  has  come  in  for  a  good  deal  of 
criticism  because  he  did  not  stand  by  his 
ideals,  particularly  on  the  Philippine  question. 
He  did  stand  by  them,  usually ;  he  voted 
against  the  Philippine  bills,  despite  the  state- 


64  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

ments  made  to  the  contrary  by  ill-informed  or 
careless  writers.  The  only  occasion  of  real 
importance  where  he  failed  to  stand  by  his 
guns  was  on  the  Panama  matter. 

And  it  must  be  remembered  that  to  a  man 
of  Hoar's  peculiar  views,  his  pride  in  the 
Republican  party  and  his  belief  that  the  wel- 
fare of  the  nation  was  bound  up  in  that  or- 
ganization, it  was  no  light  matter  to  have  his 
vote  recorded  in  the  Democratic  column.  It 
must  have  cost  the  old  man  a  bitter  struggle 
every  time  that  happened. 

The  impression  that  Hoar  did  not  stand  by 
his  guns  probably  has  its  origin  in  the  fact 
that  the  Democrats  were  continually  expect- 
ing him  to  bolt  his  party  and  support  Bryan, 
and  that  he  never  did.  Such  a  course  was  un- 
thinkable with  Hoar.  Deeply  as  his  party's 
course  on  the  Philippine  matter  grieved  him, 
he  was  at  one  with  that  party  on  nearly  every- 
thing else,  and  the  idea  of  installing  all  the 
Democratic  policies  was  even  more  abhorrent 
to  him  than  it  was  to  ex-Speaker  Reed,  ex- 
President  Harrison,  and  Senator  Hale,  who 
were  all  anti-imperialists  like  himself.  The 
only  weak  spot  in  his  attitude  here  was  that 
he  worked  out  to  his  own  satisfaction  a 
mysterious  course  of  reasoning  by  which 
Bryan  was  made  to  appear  even  more  of  an 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  65 

imperialist  than  McKinley,  and  hence  more 
objectionable  to  anti-imperialists.  The  un- 
reasonableness of  this  gave  rise  to  accusations 
against  Hoar  of  quibbling  and  pettifogging, 
although  even  then  no  one  directly  attacked 
his  sincerity,  as  would  certainly  have  been 
done  with  anybody  else. 

His  last  great  speech  was  on  the  Panama 
question,  in  December,  1903.  His  review  of 
the  figure  cut  by  the  administration  before  the 
world  made  his  fellow-Republicans  writhe. 
The  case  against  them  has  never  been  set 
forth  in  a  more  complete  and  masterly  way. 
He  reviewed  the  evidence  in  the  case  in  a 
style  that  spread  unhappiness  all  about  him  in 
waves  on  the  Republican  side,  and  unholy 
glee  on  the  Democratic  side — for  not  a  man  in 
the  minority,  unless  it  was  Bailey,  could  have 
done  the  work  in  so  impressive  and  complete 
a  fashion — and  then  said  : 

'^  Now,  Mr.  President,  I  want  to  know,  I 
think  the  American  people  want  to  know, 
and  have  the  right  to  know,  whether  this 
mighty  policeman,  instructed  to  keep  the 
peace  on  that  Isthmus,  seeing  a  man  about  to 
attack  another,  before  he  had  struck  the  blow, 
manacled  the  arms  of  the  man  attacked  so 
that  he  could  not  defend  himself,  leaving  the 
assailant  free,  and  then  instantly  proceeded  to 


66  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

secure  from  the  assailant  the  pocketbook  of 
the  victim,  on  the  ground  that  he  was  de  facto 
the  owner." 

He  cited  the  treaty  requiring  the  United 
States  to  keep  the  peace  on  the  Isthmus,  and 
then  came  this,  an  example  of  Mr.  Hoar's  ter- 
rible power  of  compact  and  condemnatory 
statement : 

''  As  the  statement  is  now  left  in  the  official 
communication  to  Congress,  this  revolution 
was  known  at  Washington  before  it  was  known 
on  the  Isthmus.  All  our  government,  by  its 
own  statement,  seems  to  have  done,  in  its 
anxiety  that  transit  should  not  be  disturbed, 
was  not  to  take  measures  that  violence  should 
not  occur,  but  to  take  measures  that  violence 
should  not  be  prevented. 

''  It  performed  its  duty  of  keeping  uninter- 
rupted the  transit  across  the  Isthmus  only  by 
interrupting  it  itself — interrupting  it  itself  in 
its  most  sacred  and  rightful  use,  that  of  the 
lawful  government  of  the  country  moving  its 
own  troops  over  its  own  territory,  that  it 
might  prevent  the  breach  of  its  peace  and  an 
unlawful  revolution  against  its  authority. 

"  Mr.  President,  is  there  any  doubt  that,  as 
now  standing  unexplained,  this  was  an  act  of 
war?" 

The  sequel  to  this  notable  speech  was  the 


SENATE  POKTRAITS  67 

most  saddening  incident  of  Mr.  Hoar's  later 
career.  He  had  become  sickened  by  his  long 
position  of  semi-ostracism  from  his  party,  and 
he  gave  up  the  fight.  In  February  Senator 
Foraker  taunted  him  into  disavowing  that 
he  had  ever  criticised  the  president  for  the 
Panama  revolution,  and  there  was  a  long  and 
painful  wrangle  between  the  two  senators,  in 
which  both  quibbled  over  the  meaning  of 
words  and  sentences  in  their  prior  speeches. 
The  impression  left  by  the  wrangle  was  dis- 
tinctly unfavorable  to  Senator  Hoar,  and  his 
best  friends  regretted  that  it  had  occurred. 

Senator  Hoar  was  a  kindly  man,  with  a 
high  regard  for  senatorial  dignity.  He  was 
tenacious  of  his  opinions  on  private  matters  as 
well  as  on  public  matters,  and  sometimes  was 
led  into  unpleasant  positions  by  the  extremity 
of  his  views.  The  most  remarkable  instance 
of  the  kind  was  when  he  entered  the  Senate 
elevator  and  met  there  a  western  senator  who 
had  with  him  a  constituent,  an  editor.  The 
western  senator  introduced  his  friend,  and 
when  Senator  Hoar  heard  the  name  of  the 
man's  paper  he  turned  his  back  on  him,  say- 
ing: 

"  I  don't  care  to  know  you.  Your  paper 
was  the  one  that  said  twenty  years  ago  that 
my   friend    Senator   Morrill   was   living   be- 


68  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

cause  he  was  too  mean  to  pay  funeral  ex- 
penses/' 

The  astonished  editor  replied  that  he  had 
never  written  anything  of  the  kind.  But  Mr. 
Hoar  was  not  in  the  least  moved.  He  replied 
that  it  did  not  make  any  difference,  as  long 
as  the  editor  was  on  the  paper  that  printed 
the  paragraph.  The  editor  replied  that  he 
did  not  care  to  meet  a  man  so  bigoted  and 
unreasonable,  and  the  two  stood  with  their 
backs  turned  to  each  other,  leaving  the  western 
senator  feeling  as  if  he  had  stepped  on  a  pair 
of  hot  coals. 

A  Washington  correspondent  once  called 
upon  Mr.  Hoar  at  his  home  in  that  city  with 
a  question  which  the  senator  did  not  want  to 
answer.  The  newspaper  man  knew  before- 
hand that  Mr.  Hoar  would  not  want  to  answer 
it,  so  he  thought  out  a  statement  of  the  case 
which  would  make  it  as  strong  and  plausible 
as  possible.  As  finally  framed  the  question 
ought  to  have  drawn  something  from  the 
senator,  but  it  didn't.  The  senator  listened 
to  it  with  his  most  benevolent  air,  and  at  the 
end  shook  his  head  slowly  and  convincingly 
a  dozen  times,  all  the  time  saying,  in  a  slow, 
gentle,  but  absolutely  immovable  voice  : 

"  No.     No.     No." 

This  was  a  new  way  of  refusing  to  be  inter- 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  69 

viewed.  The  correspondent  saw  that  there 
was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  waiting,  so  he 
arose  and  bade  Mr.  Hoar  good-night.  As  he 
turned  the  door-knob  the  senator  called  after 
him,  and  he  turned,  to  see  the  most  benevo- 
lent smile  that  ever  adorned  a  human  counte- 
nance. 

''  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Hoar,  in  his  amiable 
drawl,  ^'  that  you  must  feel  a  great  deal  like 
the  small  boy  who  learned  the  alphabet  and 
when  he  got  to  the  letter  Z  remarked  that  it 
was  hardly  worth  while  going  so  far  to  learn 
so  little.     Don^t  you  ?  " 

He  was  a  tremendous  fighter  when  once 
enlisted  in  a  cause,  and  he  sometimes  stickled 
on  technicalities  in  a  way  that  exasperated 
his  senatorial  colleagues.  He  wielded  a 
sharp-edged  rapier  in  debate,  and  in  give- 
and-take  was  the  equal  of  almost  any  man  in 
the  chamber.  There  are  other  men  with 
ideals  as  high  as  his,  but  none  in  the  Senate 
who  has  his  great  armory  of  weapons  with 
which  to  fight  for  them. 

In  the  long  session  of  each  new  Congress 
Senator  Hoar  would  always  seize  some  topic, 
become  immersed  in  it,  and  throughout  the 
session  be  so  identified  with  it  that  no  man 
can  speak  of  it  without  a  picture  of  the  old 
statesman  rising  before  his  eyes.     This  does 


10  SENATE  POETKAITS 

not  imply  playing  to  the  galleries  or  seek- 
ing the  calcium ;  it  was  Hoar's  nature  and 
habit. 

Thus,  for  example,  in  the  long  session  of 
the  Fifty-eighth  Congress  the  ''  anti-Smoot- 
ing,"  as  the  late  Henry  L.  Merrick  used  to 
call  it,  served  one  purpose  besides  holding 
Mormonism  up  by  the  scruff  of  the  neck  to 
the  eyes  of  a  surprised  and  not  enthusiastic 
nation.  It  furnished  Senator  Hoar  with  his 
biennial  place  in  the  centre  of  the  stage  at  the 
first  session  of  a  new  Congress. 

In  the  short  session  no  one  ever  heard  of 
him.  He  did  not  derive  any  inspiration  from 
the  opportunities  of  the  hurried  and  business- 
like period  preceding  the  death  of  a  Congress. 
He  tried  to,  but  could  not.  In  the  second 
session  of  the  Fifty-seventh  Congress  he  made 
an  effort  to  get  interested  in  the  trust  ques- 
tion, and  introduced  a  bill  which  was  the 
wonder  of  an  hour.  It  was  no  use ;  the  at- 
mosphere of  a  short  session  was  uncongenial, 
and  the  trust  question  was  disposed  of  for 
that  session  with  Mr.  Hoar  lost  among  the 
rank  and  file,  instead  of  leading  the  army. 

In  three  congresses  Mr.  Hoar  seized  the 
Philippine  question,  and  to  this  day  he  is 
about  all  that  is  remembered  of  those  historic 
debates.     There    were    other    speakers,    but 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  71 

when  one  thinks  of  the  Philippine  discus- 
sions he  thinks  only  of  Hoar. 

It  was  always  as  the  representative  of  a  day 
gone  by  that  Hoar  addressed  the  Senate  and 
commanded  its  attention.  It  was  unconscious 
with  him,  of  course ;  if  he  had  deliberately 
assumed  that  attitude  he  would  have  been 
laughed  at.  The  very  unconsciousness  of  it 
added  something  noble  and  forlorn  to  his  ap- 
pearances, and  there  was  not  a  senator  who 
did  not  recognize  it  and  was  not  touched  by 
it.  It  was  this  more  than  anything  else  that 
insured  him  the  respectful  and  admiring  at- 
tention of  senators  who  knew  perfectly  well 
that  he  might  not  follow  his  voice  with  his 
vote. 

Look  in  the  Congressional  Record  at  Hoar's 
great  speeches  for  years  past,  and  you  will 
find  that  after  every  one  of  them  occurs  this 
sentence : 

''  The  Presiding  Officer.  Visitors  in  the 
galleries  will  please  remember  that  under  the 
rules  of  the  Senate  no  expressions  of  approval 
or  disapproval  are  permitted,  and  if  there  is  a 
repetition  of  the  applause  the  sergeant-at- 
arms  will  be  required  to  clear  the  galleries  at 
once." 

The  last  time  this  happened,  in  1902,  Sen- 
ator Bacon  observed,  ''  I  think  it  should  be 


T2  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

noted  that  the  main  applause  was  on  the  floor 
of  the  Senate/' 

These  set  speeches  of  Hoar's  were  always 
very  long  and  crammed  to  the  muzzle  with 
both  facts  and  eloquence.  They  were  elabo- 
rate, leisurely  arguments,  moving  majestically 
to  a  conclusion  that  was  an  irresistible  climax. 
Again,  they  were  the  speeches  of  an  elder 
day ;  the  meteoric  and  flashy  peroration  of 
to-day,  following  a  pyrotechnic  speech,  is  a 
strange  contrast  to  these  slow-moving,  gradu- 
ally-ascending flights,  moving  on  the  wings 
of  Webster  and  Sumner. 

The  style  was  as  elaborate  as  that  of  Mil- 
ton's prose,  and,  for  the  Senate,  not  much  less 
archaic.  The  peroration  consisted  in  the  de- 
liberate and  leisurely  painting  of  a  picture. 
The  modern  climax  is  a  paragraph  long ;  one 
of  Hoar's  takes  up  a  page  of  the  Congressional 
Record,  because  it  is  a  picture  painted  with 
scrupulous  care  in  every  detail,  and  of  won- 
drous beauty. 

The  grace  and  beauty  of  each  speech  as  a 
whole  is  unmatched  by  the  utterances  of 
any  man  now  in  public  life.  Webster  is  re- 
called in  the  orderly  arrangement,  the  lei- 
surely knitting  together  of  argument  and  fact 
to  make  it  unanswerable  ;  but  for  the  ponder- 
ous and  periodic  solemnity  of  Webster  is  sub- 


I 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  T3 

stituted  a  fine  and  gentle  touch  which  does 
not  impair  the  majesty  and  impress! veness  of 
the  work. 

These  speeches  were  for  years  in  opposition 
to  the  policy  of  his  party,  and  some  feeling 
of  his  loneliness  moved  the  old  man  to  an 
emotion  that  was  visible  and  was  shared  by 
the  most  callous  of  his  listeners.  Nature  did 
not  give  him  an  orator's  voice ;  it  was  high- 
pitched  and  shrill  and  wavering,  but  he  so 
used  that  poor  weapon  as  to  remind  one  of 
Sill's  poem  of  the  king's  son  who  found  a 
broken  sword  and  with  it ''  saved  a  great  cause 
that  heroic  day.'' 

Nor  did  he  gesticulate  in  the  ordinary  sense. 
When  deeply  moved  he  walked  out  into  the 
aisle  and  back  again  ;  his  body  shook  with 
the  force  of  his  indignation,  and  he  would 
rise  on  his  toes  when  he  was  delivering  an  in- 
vective ;  but  he  seldom  moved  his  hands  at  all. 

When  he  had  prepared  his  audience  for  the 
painting  of  the  picture  he  came  out  into  the 
aisle  and  stood  there,  generally  with  his  hands 
folded.  That  voice,  which  had  so  won  upon 
his  hearers,  was  broken  with  feeling  and  the 
old  man  himself  was  so  evidently  and  sin- 
cerely moved  that  a  touch  of  compassion  was 
added  to  the  feeling  evoked  by  his  solemn 
appeals. 


U  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Once,  for  example — in  the  speech  of  1900, 
on  the  Philippine  question — he  began  his  pic- 
ture with  this  touch  of  the  brush  : 

''  I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  the  question 
before  us  now  might  be  decided  not  alone  by 
the  votes  of  us  who  sit  here  to-day,  but  of  the 
great  men  who  have  been  our  predecessors  in 
this  chamber  and  in  the  Continental  Congress 
from  the  beginning  of  the  Republic." 

Then  he  walked  slowly  into  the  aisle  and 
called  the  roll.  The  first  name  was  that  of 
George  Washington,  and  he  called  it  in  a 
voice  so  deep  and  solemn,  and  so  reverent, 
that  the  thrilled  men  about  him  seemed  al- 
most to  expect  that  the  Father  of  his  Country 
would  rise  at  the  invocation  and  answer. 

After  pausing  a  moment.  Hoar  gave  the 
answer,  with  the  reason  for  the  vote ;  and  so 
he  went  on,  calling  the  roll  of  all  the  fathers 
in  such  a  way  that  the  auditors  hardly  drew 
a  breath,  till  he  ended  with  the  name  of  Will- 
iam McKinley.  That  name  he  called  twice, 
as  if  McKinley  was  reluctant  to  answer  ;  and 
when  the  answer  came  it  was  so  tactfully 
made  that  while  conveying  an  impression  of 
rebuke  to  the  president,  it  violated  no  one's 
sense  of  decorum  and  jarred  not  the  least 
upon  the  impressiveness  of  the  scene. 

**  Mr.  President,"  he  concluded,   ''  I  know 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  75 

how  feeble  is  a  single  voice  amid  this  din  and 
tempest,  this  delirium  of  empire.  It  may 
be  that  the  battle  for  this  day  is  lost.  But  I 
have  an  assured  faith  in  the  future.  I  have 
an  assured  faith  in  justice  and  the  love  of  lib- 
erty of  the  American  people.  The  stars  in 
their  courses  fight  for  freedom.  The  Ruler  of 
the  heavens  is  on  that  side.  If  the  battle 
to-day  goes  against  it,  I  appeal  to  another  day, 
not  distant  and  sure  to  come.  I  appeal  from 
the  clapping  of  hands  and  the  stamping  of 
feet  and  the  brawling  and  the  shouting  to  the 
quiet  chamber  where  the  fathers  gathered  in 
Philadelphia.  I  appeal  from  the  spirit  of 
trade  to  the  spirit  of  liberty.  I  appeal  from 
the  empire  to  the  republic.  I  appeal  from 
the  millionaire,  and  the  boss,  and  the  wire- 
puller, and  the  manager,  to  the  statesman  of 
the  elder  time,  in  whose  eyes  a  guinea  never 
glistened,  who  lived  and  died  poor,  and  who 
left  to  his  children  and  to  his  countrymen  a 
good  name  far  better  than  riches.  I  appeal 
from  the  Present,  bloated  with  material 
prosperity,  drunk  with  the  lust  of  empire, 
to  another  and  a  better  age.  I  appeal  from 
the  Present  to  the  Future  and  to  the 
Past." 

And    as    the   old   man   ceased,  the  vision 
seemed  fulfilled,  and  that  statesman  of  the 


76  SENATE  PORTEAITS 

bygone  day  to  stand  again  in  the  venerable 
figure  there  in  the  Senate  aisle. 

That  appeal  was  an  utterance  almost  of 
despair.  The  Philippine  question  had  been 
discussed  from  a  standpoint  which  had  a  for- 
eign and  shocking  sound  in  Hoar's  ears.  He 
had  appealed  to  the  honored  maxims  of  the 
eighteenth  century  in  full  confidence  of  their 
potency,  and  they  had  fallen  on  deaf  ears. 
Senator  Beveridge  on  the  Republican  side  and 
other  senators  on  the  Democratic  side  had  dis- 
cussed the  issue  from  a  commercial  stand- 
point. Beveridge  told  of  the  great  commer- 
cial opportunities  open  in  Asia,  while  Hoar 
listened  stupefied  with  pain  and  amazement 
at  the  lack  of  arguments  on  either  side  which 
came  obviously  from  love  and  knowledge  of 
the  old  American  traditions.  The  age  had 
gone  on  and  left  him  behind.  His  own  con- 
juring up  of  the  ghosts  of  the  fathers  had  met 
only  with  respectful  tenderness  for  himself, 
and  had  moved  no  man.  And  hence  came 
this  despairing  appeal  to  the  statesmen  of  the 
past,  in  drawing  whose  picture  he  uncon- 
sciously drew  his  own. 

As  in  his  peroration  of  1900  he  painted  the 
roll-call  of  the  fathers,  so  the  peroration  of  his 
set  speech  of  1902  was  a  picture  of  the  erec- 
tion of  a  column  to  American  liberty,  with 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  Y7 

each  generation  bringing  an  inscription  which 
should  recite  its  own  contribution  to  that 
cause.  First  came  the  generation  of  the 
Puritans,  with  the  inscription,  '^  I  brought  the 
torch  of  Freedom  across  the  sea.  I  laid  in 
Christian  liberty  and  law  the  foundations  of 
empire." 

And  so  the  generations  came  on,  marshaled 
by  the  old  man  in  the  aisle,  and  there  was  not 
a  man  there  who  did  not  see  the  sight  as 
plainly  as  if  the  column  were  going  up  before 
his  eyes.  At  last  came  the  present  genera- 
tion, but  Hoar  left  its  place  upon  the  column 
blank.  He  stayed  the  coming  sculptor  with 
his  hand,  and  asked  if  that  inscription  should 
be,  '^  We  repealed  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. We  crushed  the  only  republic  in 
Asia.  We  baffled  the  aspirations  of  a  people 
for  liberty." 

*'  No  !  "  he  cried.  ''  Never,  never  !  Other 
and  better  counsels  will  yet  prevail.  The 
hours  are  long  in  the  life  of  a  great  people." 

So  the  old  man  stood  there,  almost  solitary 
and  getting  lonelier  every  year  ;  and  when  he 
died  Massachusetts  did  not  fill  his  place.  It 
was  inevitable  that  the  Bay  State  should  at 
last  yield  to  the  custom  of  her  sister  states 
and  have  herself  represented  by  a  senator  of 
the  modern  type  ;  and  yet  it  somehow  seems  a 


78  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

pity  that  she  could  not  have  continued  a  few 
years  longer  her  honorable  isolation  in  that 
chamber. 

Perhaps  it  is  honor  enough  for  the  State  of 
Sumner  that  so  long  she  stood  alone  on  the 
floor  of  the  Senate,  in  the  person  of  George 
Frisbie  Hoar. 

He  had  foibles  and  weaknesses  in  plenty, 
and  was  far  from  perfect,  even  as  a  senator ; 
yet  when  at  last  his  chair  was  vacant  and  a 
successful  business  man  came  to  Washington 
from  the  State  House  at  Boston,  it  almost 
seemed  to  many  that  the  grave  of  the  old-time 
Senate  was  the  new-made  grave  at  Worcester. 


THE  VENDETTA  OF  HANNA  AND  PETTIGREW 

Mark  Hanna  became  a  national  figure  in 
1896,  when  he  was  well  on  in  years,  and  he 
died  eight  years  later.  In  that  time  he  con- 
siderably altered  the  public  opinion  of  him ; 
and  also  he  altered  the  part  he  had  expected 
to  pla}^  on  the  national  stage.  He  came  to 
Washington  as  a  successful  business  man  and 
a  man  with  a  just-won  fame  as  an  equally 
successful  politician.  It  was  the  fashion  then 
to  sneer  at  his  intellectual  endowments  and 
to  sigh  over  the  decadence  of  the  Senate. 
When  he  died  he  had  done  things  in  this 
world,  short  as  was  the  period  in  which  he 
had  a  real  part  to  play.  He  had  become  one 
of  the  most  influential  men  in  public  life ; 
and  to  mention  no  more  than  one  of  his  titles 
to  fame,  he  had  brought  to  an  end  the  quib- 
blings  of  fifty  years  and  had  made  possible  an 
interoceanic  canal. 

But  for  Mark  Hanna  there  might  have  been 
another  half-century  of  battledore  and  shut- 
tlecock across  Nicaragua  and  Panama.  The 
canal    had    to   wait  five   decades   for   Mark 

79 


80  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Hanna  ;  if  he  had  not  come  it  might  have 
been  five  more  before  his  like  appeared. 

Now,  all  this  could  not  be  the  work  of  a 
dull  money-bag,  and  it  was  not.  Hanna  died 
with  the  public  perception  of  him  readjusted. 
He  came  into  a  Senate  that  was  chilly,  because 
it  doubted  his  ability  to  do  greater  things  than 
coin  money,  manipulate  delegates,  and  per- 
haps— for  the  charges  of  his  enemies  were 
loudly  uttered — buy  legislatures.  He  lived 
to  be  one  of  the  most  influential  men  in  that 
Senate,  hearkened  to  by  men  who  had  looked 
askance  at  the  mere  money-bag  they  thought 
they  saw.  He  died  satisfied  with  the  full 
knowledge  that  this  influence  had  been  won 
by  force  of  character  and  brains. 

Hanna  surprised  himself  by  his  own  de- 
velopment. When  he  went  into  the  Senate, 
for  example,  he  thought  he  could  not  make  a 
speech.  It  was  Richard  Franklin  Pettigrew 
of  South  Dakota  who  transformed  Hanna 
into  a  speechmaker.  Nothing  was  further 
from  Pettigrew's  mind  ;  but  he  accomplished 
the  feat  by  the  simple  process  of  making 
Hanna  angry. 

After  the  discovery  that  he  could  talk, 
Hanna  went  on  talking.  He  improved  as  he 
went  along,  and  in  course  of  time  became  one 
of  the  most  effective  speakers  in  the  Senate. 


MARCUS   A.   HAKNA. 

Firm  of  face  and  square  of  chin,  with  an  eye  that  seemed  to 
bore  its  way  into  you.'* 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  81 

There  was  a  breezy  directness  about  him,  a 
blunt  downrightness,  that  gave  his  speeches  a 
charm  all  their  own. 

The  difference  between  him  and  some  other 
senatorial  orators  was  illustrated  once  when 
he  and  Senator  Fairbanks,  now  vice-president, 
spoke  on  the  Chinese  exclusion  bill,  in  1902. 
He  and  Fairbanks  were  then  the  only  Repub- 
licans generally  talked  of  as  presidential  can- 
didates, Mr.  Roosevelt  being  new  in  the 
White  House  and  still  on  trial.  The  appear- 
ance of  the  two  senators  on  the  same  after- 
noon attracted  a  crowd.  Later  on  both  presi- 
dential booms  fizzled  out,  but  that  joint 
debate  illustrated  luminously  two  kinds  of 
senatorial  oratory,  as  it  did  two  very  different 
characters. 

First  came  Hanna,  firm  of  face  and  square 
of  chin,  with  an  eye  that  seemed  to  bore  its 
way  into  you.  Then  came  Fairbanks,  a  bald- 
headed  man  without  the  courage  of  his  bald- 
ness ;  with  three  long  black  locks  plastered 
across  the  front  of  his  pate  where  the  begin- 
ning of  the  whole  thatch  was  twenty  years 
ago.  These  three  hairs  look  as  if  they  were 
painted  on.  Perhaps  they  are ;  the  mystery 
of  the  Fairbanks  hair  has  never  been  officially 
explained. 

Hanna  was  frankly  opposed  to  the  proposi- 


82  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

tion  before  the  Senate,  which  was  strongly 
anti-Chinese  and  devised  in  the  interest  of 
labor.  He  swung  his  arms  and  hammered 
himself  in  like  a  nail.  His  talk  was  made  in 
a  sturdy,  common-sense,  businesslike  manner 
that  was  like  fresh  air.  He  talked  about  the 
down-trodden  laboring  man,  but  not  in  the 
usual  politician  fashion  ;  for  the  drift  of  his 
remarks  was  to  the  effect  that  while  he  loved 
the  down-trodden  laboring  man,  that  down- 
trodden person  had  been  trying  to  bulldoze 
him  into  voting  against  his  convictions,  and 
that  he  would  not  be  dictated  to.  Which 
never  did  him  a  bit  of  harm,  though  it  took 
courage  to  say  it ;  for  a  man  of  courage  loses 
nothing  by  letting  it  be  known. 

It  was  a  regulation  Hanna  speech,  but  it 
was  accentuated  by  the  appearance  of  Fair- 
banks immediately  after  him.  Fairbanks 
came  like  a  humming-bird  after  an  elephant. 
He  gesticulated  with  just  the  proper  gestures  ; 
spread  his  hands  in  front  of  his  face  at  the 
proper  moment,  clenched  his  fist  when  he 
was  expressing  indignation,  uplifted  his  fore- 
finger to  indicate  warning,  and  otherwise  fol- 
lowed the  approved  elocution  standards  of 
the  Boys'  High  School.  And  he  closed  every 
sentence  with  a  rising  inflection,  whereas 
Hanna  bore  down  on  the  last  word  of  a  sen- 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  83 

tence  as  if  he  were  burying  it  six  feet  deep. 
It  is  needless  to  add  that  Fairbanks  was 
strongly  in  favor  of  the  down-trodden  labor- 
ing man  and  ready  to  go  any  length  to  please 
him. 

These  two  senators  had  often  enough  given 
specimens  of  two  standards  of  oratory  and 
two  types  of  character,  but  never  before  in 
conjunction  and  under  such  interesting  cir- 
cumstances.    It  was  an  instructive  contrast. 

That  was  the  orator  Hanna,  two  years  after 
Pettigrew  had  made  that  revolution  in  his 
enemy  and  had  blown  himself  out  of  the 
Senate  in  the  doing  of  it.  Thereby  hangs  a 
tale — the  tale  of  a  senatorial  feud.  It  is  five 
years  now  since  Richard  Franklin  Pettigrew 
made  Hanna  an  orator  and  made  himself  an 
ex-senator,  but  the  story  is  not  likely  soon  to 
be  forgotten  in  Washington. 

The  Senate  was  not  so  interesting  after 
Pettigrew  packed  his  grip  and  went  back  to 
South  Dakota.  Even  the  Republican  sena- 
tors had  to  admit  that  life  was  shorn  of  much 
of  its  excitement.  None  of  the  Republican 
leaders  had  ever  come  down  to  the  chamber 
in  the  morning  without  a  feeling  of  wonder 
mixed  with  dread  about  what  Pettigrew  was 
going  to  do  to  them  that  day.  The  days  were 
few  when  the  South  Dakotan  had  not  some 


84  SENATE  PORTKAITS 

ambuscade  carefully  prepared  for  his  former 
friends  on  the  Republican  side.  He  had  not 
his  equal  for  industry  and  pertinacity.  His 
attacks  were  like  those  of  a  mosquito,  and  his 
energy  was  as  tireless  and  his  activity  as  con- 
stant as  those  of  that  unpopular  insect. 

Pettigrew's  defeat  in  1900  is  one  of  the 
most  curious  things  in  politics.  He  had 
prodded  and  stung  Republican  senators  all 
the  session,  irritating  them  beyond  measure, 
and  at  last,  in  the  closing  hours,  he  unex- 
pectedly swooped  down  on  Mark  Hanna  and 
drew  blood.  The  big  Republican,  who  had 
borne  assaults  from  other  quarters  without 
opening  his  mouth,  was  aroused  by  Petti- 
grew's  attack,  and  there  was  a  senatorial 
fracas  for  half  an  hour.  Hanna  then  first 
entered  the  arena  as  a  senatorial  speech- 
maker.  The  incident  apparently  ended,  and 
Pettigrew  certainly  expected  no  worse  results 
from  it  than  had  followed  his  nagging  of 
other  senators. 

But  Mark  Hanna  was  aroused.  It  was  a 
personal  matter  with  him  now.  All  the  other 
personal  attacks  of  the  last  four  years  had 
drawn  from  him  nothing  but  an  occasional 
protest.  But  he  now  vowed  vengeance  on  the 
man  who  had  carried  the  attacks  on  his  char- 
acter into  the  Senate  and  had  rubbed  them 


SENATE  POKTKAITS  85 

in.  He  had  been  accused  of  dishonesty  to 
his  face  and  in  the  Senate.  It  was  this  latter 
fact  that  infuriated  Hanna  most  of  all.  It 
may  not  be  generally  known,  but  there  was 
no  man  in  the  Senate — not  even  Mr.  Hoar — 
who  had  such  an  appreciation  of  the  dignity 
and  majesty  of  that  body  as  Mr.  Hanna.  His 
conception  of  it  was  even  higher  than  the  fact. 
He  could  hardly  have  considered  himself  a 
member  of  a  more  august  body  if  he  had  been 
a  justice  of  the  supreme  court.  He  even  had 
an  idea  that  the  dignity  of  the  Senate  was 
such  that  the  newspapers  should  hesitate  to 
criticise  a  member  of  it,  though  he  would  not 
have  applied  that  idea  to  any  other  legislative 
body.  And  here,  in  this  sacred  chamber 
itself,  he  was  assailed  with  a  partisan  viru- 
lence which  had  never  been  surpassed  and 
hardly  ever  equaled  in  editorials  and  car- 
toons. 

The  campaign  came  up  just  then,  and  Mr. 
Hanna's  vow  of  vengeance  was  forgotten. 
Probably  those  who  remembered  it  thought, 
when  the  Republican  chairman  threw  himself 
heart  and  soul  into  the  fray  for  McKinley, 
that  he  himself  had  forgotten  it  in  the  pursuit 
of  more  important  matters,  or  that  his  anger 
had  cooled.  That  betrayed  an  ignorance  of 
Mark  Hanna.     As  soon  as  he  felt  absolutely 


86  SENATE  PORTEAITS 

confident  that  McKinley  was  sure  to  be 
elected,  Mr.  Hanna  dropped  everything,  left 
the  national  campaign  in  the  hands  of 
subordinates,  and  began  the  carrying  out  of 
his  long-cherished  project  for  vengeance 
against  his  personal  enemy.  It  was  a  ven- 
detta of  politics. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  campaign 
Hanna  camped  on  the  trail  of  his  enemy. 
He  went  through  South  Dakota  from  end  to 
end,  speaking  and  working,  and  left  no  stone 
unturned  to  complete  the  undoing  of  Petti- 
grew.  As  it  was  generally  believed  that 
South  Dakota  would  give  her  electoral  vote  to 
McKinley,  Hanna's  devotion  to  that  State  be- 
came inexplicable.  The  fact  was  that  the 
political  prophets  conceded  the  senatorship  to 
Pettigrew,  while  giving  the  electoral  vote  to 
McKinley,  and  until  the  very  eve  of  election 
this  was  the  slate.  Hanna's  work  undid  that. 
He  came  back  from  South  Dakota  not  only 
with  the  electoral  vote  for  his  chief,  but  with 
the  scalp  of  Pettigrew  dangling  at  his 
belt. 

It  was  a  curious  and  interesting  feud.  No 
two  men  could  be  more  unlike  than  Hanna 
and  Pettigrew,  and  yet  there  was  a  similarity 
in  the  positions  they  occupied.  Hanna  was 
the  business  man  in  politics ;  so  was  Petti- 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  87 

grew.  Both  were  or  had  been  financial 
magnates.  Hanna  was  the  type  of  the  busi- 
ness man  in  politics  who  upholds  political 
systems  as  they  are ;  Pettigrew  was  the  much 
rarer  type  of  the  business  man  in  politics  who 
would  tear  down  and  destroy,  as  his  enemies 
would  put  it ;  or,  as  he  would  prefer  to  put  it, 
to  reform  and  regenerate. 

Pettigrew  had  met  with  financial  losses 
lately,  but  he  entered  the  Senate  as  a  rich 
man.  He  was  the  best-known  capitalist  in 
his  state,  occupying  in  that  respect  the  same 
position  that  Hanna  did  in  Ohio.  His  own 
community  was  covered  with  Pettigrew 's 
business  enterprises.  Hanna  started  as  an  em- 
ployee of  a  wholesale  grocery  house  ;  Pettigrew 
started  as  a  laborer.  Both  men  made  their 
way  in  the  world  by  indomitable  energy  and 
business  ability.  Both  were  educated  in 
Western  colleges.  Both  came  to  the  Senate  as 
Republicans  ;  but  Hanna's  bent  was  in  the  di- 
rection of  extreme  conservatism  and  Pettigrew's 
in  the  direction  of  extreme  radicalism,  and  each 
had  gone  to  the  fullest  extremity  of  his  views 
when  they  met  as  antagonists  in  the  United 
States  Senate.  The  radical  was  unhorsed  and 
thrown  out  of  public  life,  and  the  conserva- 
tive could  say  with  truth  that  it  was  he  who 
did   it.     Nor  would   he  have  been   slow   to 


88  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

acknowledge  that  he  did  it  as  a  punishment 
for  the  radical's  daring  to  assail  him  person- 
ally and  publicly.  In  fact,  Hanna  was  proud 
of  the  feat. 

From  the  time  that  Pettigrew  tied  himself 
up  to  the  Silver  Republican  party  he  devoted 
himself  to  making  life  unpleasant  for  the 
Republicans,  but  he  never  developed  this 
faculty  so  fully  and  completely  as  in  the  long 
session  of  the  Fifty-sixth  Congress.  No  man 
on  the  opposition  side  was  so  dreaded  and  dis- 
liked. He  was  continually  digging  traps  for 
the  administration  senators.  Some  of  them 
were  serious  pitfalls,  and  the  Republicans 
avoided  them  only  by  great  agility,  as  when 
he  introduced  a  resolution  that  the  Republi- 
cans could  hardly  avoid  passing  without  being 
put  in  a  bad  light,  but  drew  it  so  cunningly 
that  to  pass  it  would  be  an  official  acknowl- 
edgment of  Aguinaldo's  government.  Others 
were  of  a  humorous  nature,  and  tended  to  put 
the  Republicans  in  a  harmlessly  ridiculous 
light.  One  such  was  when  he  asked  leave  to 
print  a  pamphlet  prepared  by  himself  and 
containing  quotations  from  the  writings  of 
"  distinguished  Populists,"  extracts  from 
which  he  read. 

The  Republicans  fell  over  themselves  to  ob- 
ject, and  then  it  turned  out  that  the  quota- 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  8Sl 

tions  were  from  the  writings  of  Lincoln, 
Washington,  and  Jefferson. 

At  times  the  badgered  Republicans,  worried 
beyond  endurance,  turned  savagely  on  Petti- 
grew,  but  they  could  not  affect  him.  Their 
invective,  sarcasm,  and  anger  made  no  im- 
pression. There  was  only  one  occasion  when 
Pettigrew's  composure  left  him  and  he  became 
angry.  It  was  when  he  was  made  the  victim 
of  a  tremendous  rebuke  by  the  late  Senator 
Wolcott  of  Colorado,  who,  like  Pettigrew, 
failed  of  reelection  in  1900.  The  scene  was  a 
remarkable  one.  Not  even  Pettigrew  and 
Hanna  were  more  unlike  than  Pettigrew  and 
Wolcott.  Pettigrew  is  a  tall  man,  with 
stooped  shoulders  and  a  pale  face,  deeply 
lined.  His  voice  is  shrill  and  high — almost 
whining.  To  listen  to  it  long  sets  the  nerves 
on  edge. 

Wolcott  was  a  big  man  with  a  bronzed, 
jolly  face  and  a  thunderous  voice.  He  looked 
as  much  like  a  commercial  traveler  as  Petti- 
grew did  like  a  retail  dry  goods  clerk.  He 
was  an  orator  with  a  magical  voice,  to  whom 
Garrick  might  have  paid  the  tribute  he  did  to 
Whitfield,  ''  I  would  give  a  thousand  pounds 
if  I  could  say  '  Oh  '  as  Whitfield  does."  Petti- 
grew had  triumphantly  concluded  one  of  his 
assaults  on  the  administration,  when  Wolcott 


90  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

arose,  and  instantly  the  doors  opened  and  the 
senators  who  had  gone  into  the  cloakroom 
when  Pettigrew  began  rolled  in  like  a  tide. 

Standing  not  more  than  ten  feet  away  from 
Pettigrew,  Wolcott  began  his  speech.  He 
drew  a  picture  of  the  South  Dakotan  that  was 
pitiless  in  its  cruelty.  As  he  warmed  up  to 
his  work  he  began  to  walk  up  and  down, 
never  taking  his  eyes  off  Pettigrew,  who  sat 
huddled  up  in  his  chair,  his  pale  face  chang- 
ing to  a  dull  red  and  his  fingers  spread  over 
his  left  cheek.  Occasionally  he  strode  up  to 
within  a  desk's  length  of  his  victim  and 
waved  his  big  arm  in  the  air.  His  great  voice 
pealed  and  rolled  through  the  Senate  like  an 
organ  symphony.  All  the  powers  of  that  re- 
markable voice  were  displayed  to  their  fullest 
extent  for  the  dissection  and  pulverization  of 
Pettigrew. 

He  painted  a  man  whose  nature  was  poi- 
soned with  suspicion,  hatred,  and  malevo- 
lence; who  '^  views  the  world  with  jaundiced 
vision,"  and  '^  when  the  sun  shines  sees  only 
the  shadows  it  casts."  He  held  Pettigrew  up 
as  a  warning  to  mankind.  In  his  peroration 
he  strode  up  to  Pettigrew,  and,  shaking  his 
big  finger  at  him,  thundered,  in  the  voice  of 
a  human  ocean  : 

"  I  believe  that  if  he  changed  places  with 


SENATE  POETEAITS  91 

Aguinaldo,  who  is  brave,  loyal  and  patriotic, 
and  Aguinaldo  stood  in  the  Senate  represent- 
ing the  great  State  of  South  Dakota  which 
sent  its  soldiers  to  the  Philippines  and  left 
some  of  them  dead  in  the  trenches  there, 
Aguinaldo  would  never — Tagal  though  he  is 
— be  found  in  this  body  traducing  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States  and  slandering  and 
maligning  our  officers  now  at  the  front  and 
charging  them  with  being  swindlers  and  de- 
frauders ! " 

Pettigrew's  face  had  changed  from  its  dull 
flush  to  a  dead  white  when  Wolcott  concluded. 
He  rose  and  made  a  low-voiced  and  bitter  re- 
ply, in  which  he  made  a  slur  at  Wolcott's 
private  life.  Wolcott  had  angered  him  above 
all  by  some  references  to  Pettigrew's  relations 
with  his  fellow  senators,  and  Pettigrew  bitterly 
replied,  ^^  My  relations  are  pleasant  with  most 
of  them,  and  I  hope  the  senator  from  Colo- 
rado will  not  hide  the  whole  Senate  behind  his 
large  personality.'^ 

Pettigrew  went  on  day  by  day  hurling 
darts  into  the  hide  of  the  Republican  elephant 
just  to  hear  the  huge  beast  trumpet,  until 
June  5th,  when  he  made  the  fatal  mistake  of 
waking  up  Mark  Hanna.  But  for  that  he 
might  still  be  in  the  Senate.  He  had  been 
bitterly    assailing  another   senator  with  the 


92  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

usual  results.  Suddenly,  without  the  slightest 
warning,  he  fell  upon  Hanna  and  tore  him, 
tooth  and  nail.  He  raked  up  the  story  of 
Hanna's  election  to  the  Senate,  made  fiat- 
footed  charges  of  bribery,  and  provoked 
Hanna  to  do  something  he  had  never  done 
before — make  an  extemporaneous  reply. 
Hanna  denounced  Pettigrew  as  a  ''  traitor,^^ 
and  read  a  clipping  from  a  South  Dakota 
paper  calling  Pettigrew  a  "  Judas  "  and  an 
''  Arnold."  At  the  end  of  his  speech,  leaning 
over  his  desk  until  he  almost  touched 
Pettigrew,  whose  back  was  towards  him,  he 
shouted  : 

''  Oh,  no,  Mr.  President ;  the  gentleman  will 
find  that  he  is  mistaken  in  the  people  of  the 
United  States  when  he  attempts  through  mud- 
slinging  to  influence  their  decision  at  the 
polls  next  November.  When  it  comes  to  per- 
sonality, I  will  stand  up  against  him  and  com- 
pare my  character  with  his.  I  will  let  him 
tell  what  he  knows ;  then,"  and  Mr.  Hanna 
made  a  long  pause  after  each  word,  ''  I — will 
— tell — what — I — know — about — him." 

The  threat  was  fulfilled.  In  private  Hanna 
vowed  vengeance  on  Pettigrew,  and  he  pursued 
him  relentlessly.  The  vendetta  of  politics 
ended  in  victory  for  the  avenger. 

Bitter    as    were    Pettigrew^ 's    speeches,    in 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  93 

private  he  was  an  affable  and  courteous  gentle- 
man. His  public  personality  was  so  strong, 
however,  that  it  completely  effaced  his  private 
personality  in  the  way  men  regarded  him. 
He  became  personally  unpopular  among  the 
Republican  senators  and  some  of  the  Demo- 
crats. At  the  same  time  he  was  an  interest- 
ing figure  in  public  life,  and  Washington  was 
not  so  lively  after  the  fulfilment  of  Mark 
Hanna's  revenge. 


VI 


PLATT  OF  M:W  YOEK 


The  boss  emeritus  of  the  New  York  Repub- 
lican party,  the  one  pathetic  figure  of  the 
party  crash  of  1904  and  1905,  is  spending  in 
Washington  the  days  of  his  isolation,  as  some 
of  the  dethroned  Roman  emperors  spent  their 
declining  days  in  dignified  idleness  on  estates 
or  in  humble  labor  in  monasteries  far  from 
the  scene  of  their  glories.  In  Washington, 
too,  much  of  the  time  when  he  was  active  and 
dominant  was  spent ;  here  he  has  served  one 
senatorial  term  and  parts  of  two  others ;  and 
yet,  with  all  that  has  been  written  about  him 
as  boss,  little  has  been  said  of  him  as  senator  ; 
as  New  Yorker  he  has  lived  in  the  calcium,  as 
Washingtonian  in  the  shade. 

Here,  for  three  years  longer,  is  his  safe  and 
comfortable  retreat,  whatever  storms  may  beat 
upon  the  broken  wreck  of  the  Piatt  machine 
in  New  York.  Long  before  those  three  years 
are  out  the  last  plank  of  the  wrecked  ship 
will  have  disappeared  beneath  the  waves,  and 
Piatt  will  be,  in  Washington,  that  strange 
figure  in  the  modern  Senate — a  senator  with 

94 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  96 

no  machine  and  no  influence  behind  him, 
with  nothing  but  the  memory  of  a  boss-ship 
that  is  history. 

All  his  political  life  Piatt  was  the  object  of 
abuse  and  ridicule  ;  the  fiercest  storms  beat 
upon  his  head  ;  and  yet,  now  that  the  twenty 
years  of  his  boss-ship  are  gone,  it  is  difficult 
for  an  honest  thinker  to  avoid  the  conclusion 
that,  as  bosses  go,  he  was  a  pleasant  figure. 
He  was  not  a  vulgar  boss.  Despite  the  hot 
white  light  that  beat  upon  him  all  those 
twenty  years,  he  emerges  at  the  end  with  no 
suspicion  of  having  used^  his  place  for  per- 
sonal gain. 

He  played  the  game  because  he  loved  it,  as 
other  men  play  chess.  The  men  who  were 
his  instruments  were  not  always  clean  ;  no 
boss  can  choose  his  instruments.  But,  re- 
membering what  the  modern  boss  so  often  is, 
it  is  much  to  say  that,  his  long  domination 
being  now  done,  no  one  has  ever  succeeded, 
though  many  have  tried  it,  in  fixing  any 
stigma  upon  his  personal  honor. 

He  laughingly  said  of  himself  that  he  was 
an  /'  Easy  Boss,"  and  the  name  stuck  to  him. 
Sometimes  it  was  uttered  in  derision  ;  but  it 
was  truth.  Conkling,  who  preceded  him, 
ruled  with  an  iron  hand.  But  Conkling  was 
not  comparable  to  the  bosses  who  followed. 


9a  sj:nate  portraits 

The  brute  ferocity  of  the  methods  which  suc- 
ceeded Piatt's  were  suggestive,  not  even  of 
Murphy's  methods  in  Tammany  Hall,  but  of 
Croker's ;  and  even  Croker  could  have  called 
himself  an  "  Easy  Boss  "  compared  with  Odell. 
Higgins,  not  naturally  a  man  of  the  Odell 
type,  fell  heir  to  the  Odell  methods  and  im 
proved  upon  his  master. 

''  Trample "  has  been  the  watchword  and 
the  method  ever  since  Piatt  passed  out.  Be- 
cause Piatt  played  the  game  for  love  and  not 
for  money,  he  was  not  prone  to  cherish  long 
animosities  or  to  pursue  bitter  revenges. 

Piatt  was  a  gentleman. 

So  long  has  the  voice  of  unreasoning  con- 
demnation classified  him  with  bosses  like 
Murphy  and  Croker  that  it  is  time,  now  that 
he  has  passed  as  a  leader,  to  call  attention  to 
the  fact  that  he  was  a  man  of  culture  and  of 
gentle  breeding.  They  talk  much  of  the 
"scholar  in  politics."  Piatt  was  not  exactly 
a  scholar  in  politics,  but  he  had  more  title 
to  the  name  than  many  of  the  men  who 
flaunt  it.  He  took  a  prize  in  Latin  at  Yale. 
He  has  written,  but  not  published ;  he  has 
written  for  his  own  pleasure.  He  is  not  a 
speechmaker,  but  on  the  rare  occasions  when 
he  reads  an  essay  and  calls  it  a  speech  the 
English  is  as  pure  and  clear  and  the  diction 


i 


.^^ 


THOMAS    C.    TLATT. 
"  The  one  pathetic  figure  of  the  party  crash  of  1904  and  1905. 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  ^7 

as  fine  as  one  can  discover  in  contemporary 
literature. 

Piatt  was  not  only  a  gentleman,  but  he  was 
a  great  leader.  The  genius  required  to  lead  a 
great  political  party  is  entitled  to  rank  high  ; 
and  Piatt  led  one  for  twenty  years.  So  easily 
did  he  lead  it  that  it  seemed  to  run  itself.  It 
was  compact  and  perfect,  despite  defeats. 
Yet  as  soon  as  he  had  fallen  and  Odell  had 
taken  hold,  the  organization  began  to  break. 
Odell  was  a  strong  man  ;  he  had  been  sup- 
posed to  be  stronger  than  Piatt,  because  he 
looked  and  talked  the  part.  But  his  utmost 
endeavors  could  not  hold  together  the  great 
organization  which  Piatt  had  so  magnificently 
managed  seemingly  without  an  effort.  Odell's 
failure  demonstrates  the  difficulty  of  the  task 
Piatt  so  easily  performed. 

The  same  thing  was  true  in  Pennsylvania, 
when  Quay  died.  But  Quay,  though  a  great 
political  genius,  was  not  comparable  to  Piatt. 
The  charges  against  Quay,  touching  his  per- 
sonal honor,  could  never  have  been  made 
against  Piatt. 

As  bosses  go,  he  was  a  pleasant  figure  to 
contemplate  and  by  no  means  a  bad  element 
in  politics.  To  those  who  question  this  it  is 
only  needful  to  point  to  the  fallen  estate  of 
the  Republican  party  in  New  York  the  mo- 


98  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

ment  his  hand  was  taken  off  the  lever.  The 
management  has  been  pitted  with  more 
scandals  in  the  two  years  from  1904  to  1906 
than  in  all  the  twenty  which  preceded  them. 

So  much  for  Piatt  as  a  party  leader — his 
true  title  to  fame.  But  he  has  been  a  figure 
in  the  nation's  life  as  well  as  in  the  life  of 
the  State  of  New  York,  and  the  contrast  be- 
tween his  genius  in  the  one  field  and  the  part 
he  played  in  the  other  is  so  great  as  to  make 
one  wonder  if  the  two  records  can  belong  to 
the  same  man. 

Because  there  is  somewhat  of  the  pathetic 
in  the  violent  wresting  of  power  from  an  old 
man  by  a  young  one,  it  may  seem  unkind  to 
set  forth  the  truth  about  Piatt's  service  of 
the  State  of  New  York  in  the  national  cap- 
ital. The  truth  about  it  cannot  be  entirely 
kind ;  and  yet  "  nothing  but  good  of  the 
dead  "  is  a  principle  which  can  hardly  govern 
in  the  case  of  a  man  who  is  dead  as  a  boss,  but 
alive  as  a  senator,  the  chosen  representative  of 
the  Empire  State  in  the  upper  house  of  Con- 
gress. 

Piatt's  position  in  Washington  does  not 
seem  to  be  very  thoroughly  understood  in  his 
own  State,  perhaps  because  so  little  has  been 
written  about  it.  When  he  was  seen  to  be 
the  slated  successor  of  David  B.  Hill  in  the 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  90 

Senate  in  1897  there  was  a  protest  by  inde- 
pendent Republicans,  who  rallied  around 
Joseph  H.  Choate,  and  one  of  their  most  pow- 
erful arguments  against  Mr.  Piatt  was  that  he 
had  been  in  the  Senate  before  and  had  not 
made  a  single  speech. 

Speechmaking  is  no  final  test,  standing  by 
itself,  of  a  senator's  usefulness.  There  are 
sometimes  senators  who  never  talk,  but  who 
are  as  influential  as  any  in  the  chamber. 
This  does  not  happen  often,  but  it  is  quite 
customary  for  a  senator  who  makes  but  few 
speeches  to  be  a  man  of  weight.  Mr.  Aldrich, 
for  instance,  is  not  a  very  frequent  talker,  and 
yet  he  comes  as  near  to  running  the  Senate  as 
any  man  in  it. 

The  painful  truth  is  that  so  far  as  Mr.  Piatt 
is  concerned  New  York  is  not  represented  at 
all  in  the  Senate  ;  her  voice  is  unheard,  except 
in  purely  local  matters.  When  any  public 
question  comes  up  in  the  Senate  no  one  seeks 
Mr.  Piatt.  The  great  affairs  of  this  country 
are  transacted  without  him. 

No  senator  ever  goes  up  to  New  York's 
senior  representative  and  asks  what  he  thinks 
of  any  pending  measure.  No  senator  ever 
tells  him  that  this  or  that  measure  is  under 
contemplation.  No  senator  seeks  him  in  the 
cloakroom  to  obtain  New  York's  opinion,  and 


100  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

no  senator  finds  the  way  to  his  committee 
room  to  inform  him  of  what  is  going  on. 

He  is  simply  one  of  the  rank  and  file.  The 
great  leaders  of  the  Senate  make  up  their  pro- 
grammes without  him,  and  he  learns  of  the 
thing  projected  when  his  vote  is  needed. 
When  the  bill  comes  up  he  votes  with  the  rest 
of  the  rank  and  file ;  he  offers  no  amendments 
and  he  never  speaks.  Reporters,  seeking  to 
know  what  is  contemplated  by  the  Republican 
leaders,  often  go  to  other  senators  who  are  not 
leaders,  thinking  that  these  men  may  have 
gleaned  something  of  the  leaders'  plans.  But 
they  never  go  to  Piatt. 

He  has  a  committee,  of  course ;  nearly  every 
senator  has  a  committee.  He  has  one  so  that 
he  can  have  an  ofiice.  Many  of  the  commit- 
tees transact  no  business  and  never  were 
meant  to  transact  any ;  but  every  committee 
has  a  room,  and  it  is  the  Senate's  way  of  giv- 
ing a  member  a  place  where  he  can  sit  down 
and  write  his  letters.  When  a  new  State  is 
created  the  Senate  will  often  create  two  new 
committees,  so  that  each  of  the  new  senators 
can  have  an  office. 

When  that  frank  and  cynical  person, 
Matthew  Stanle}^  Quay,  came  back  to  the 
Senate,  they  gave  him  a  room  bearing  the 
imposing     if  mysterious    title,    "  Committee 


SENATE  PORTEAITS  lol 

on  Organization,  Conduct  and  Expenditures 
of  the  Executive  Departments."  Mr.  Quay 
despised  humbug.  His  enemies  called  him 
a  political  pirate,  but  if  so,  he  was  an  en- 
gagingly frank  pirate.  He  ignored  the  pre- 
tense, and  hung  over  his  door  the  legend, 
"  Senator  Quay."  Later  this  candid  practice 
was  followed  by  others. 

Mr.  Piatt's  committee  is  that  on  Printing ; 
a  harmless  and  innocuous  committee,  which 
at  intervals  submits  resolutions  providing  that 
five  hundred  copies  of  some  document  about 
hydraulic  rams  or  boll  weevils  be  printed.  It 
is  needless  to  say  that  the  influence  of  this 
committee  on  the  world's  progress  is  not  radical. 

He  is  not  often  in  his  seat  in  the  Senate,  but 
this  is  because  of  his  bodily  infirmities.  He 
goes  to  his  committee  room  every  day — not, 
of  course,  to  transact  committee  business,  but 
to  use  his  office.  And  this  is  the  sum  total 
of  the  work  of  the  senior  senator  from  New 
York,  so  far  as  general  legislation  is  concerned. 

As  to  New  York  matters,  he  introduces 
many  bills  and  resolutions.  There  he  is 
active.  He  undertakes  to  see  that  New  York 
gets  her  fair  share  of  the  appropriations,  just 
as  the  other  senators  do  for  their  respective 
States.  Here  he  is  a  much  more  influential 
and  active  senator  than  Depew. 


io§> SENATE  PORTRAITS 

iMainly  his  activities  centre  around  New 
York  politics  and  patronage.  Here  he  is  the 
whole  thing ;  Depew  simply  trails  in  after 
him.  But,  as  federal  patronage  is  a  small 
part  of  a  boss's  duties,  his  activities  here  are 
concerned  mainly  with  what  goes  on  in  New 
York  and  not  in  Washington.  This,  at  least, 
has  been  the  rule  in  the  past ;  but  so  closely 
did  the  strong  young  boss  who  dethroned  him 
clip  and  shear  him  that  hereafter  Federal 
patronage  will  be  the  only  thing  to  give  oc- 
cupation to  the  old  man's  declining  years. 

Even  on  New  York  matters  his  ascendancy 
has  been  due  to  the  fact  that  other  senators 
have  concurred  in  it.  The  time-honored  rule 
of  "  senatorial  courtesy  "  would  not  prevent 
them  from  doing  as  they  pleased,  for  all  Piatt 
could  do  to  defend  himself.  This  was  shown 
in  the  case  of  the  nomination  of  William  H. 
Plimley  to  be  assistant  treasurer  at  New  York. 

Piatt  secured  the  assent  of  a  majority  of  the 
Finance  Committee,  and  Plimley's  nomination 
was  reported.  Aldrich  of  Rhode  Island,  chair- 
man of  the  committee,  who  spends  more  time 
in  New  York  than  he  does  in  Rhode  Island 
and  nearly  as  much  as  he  does  in  Washington, 
was  in  New  York  that  day.  He  came  back 
and  moved  that  the  nomination  be  recommit- 
ted so  that  he  could  have  a  look  at  it.     Piatt 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  103 

and  Depew  unsuspiciously  agreed,  thinking  it 
was  a  formal  affair  ;  whereupon  charges  against 
Plimley  were  filed,  and  the  president  with- 
drew Plimley's  name.  The  crafty  Aldrich, 
of  course,  knew  that  the  charges  would  be 
filed  when  he  made  the  motion.  It  was  a 
most  suggestive  incident,  and  one  of  the  things 
it  suggested  was  that  even  on  New  York  mat- 
ters Nelson  W.  Aldrich,  of  New  York  and 
Rhode  Island,  was  '^  the  senator  from  New 
York." 

It  is  a  strange  old  age  that  Piatt  is  passing 
and  will  pass  in  Washington  ;  hardly  a  senator, 
hardly  more  than  a  member  of  a  club  of  ninety 
members.  Even  of  the  club  life  of  the  Senate, 
if  it  can  be  called  that,  he  does  not  get  the 
full  enjoyment.  He  is  not  and  never  has 
been  a  member  of  Washington  ''society." 
The  man's  whole  life  was  in  his  boss-ship,  and 
with  that  gone  he  is  a  more  melancholy  and 
pathetic  figure  than  even  those  imagine  who 
see  the  pathos  of  an  old  man's  fall  at  the 
hands  of  the  governor  he  made. 

For  there  is  nothing  left.  Had  Foraker 
wrested  Mark  Hanna's  machine  away  from 
him,  there  would  have  been  plenty  left  in  life, 
for  Hanna,  and  he  would  still  have  been  a 
senator  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word.  The 
tearing  away  of  Aldrich's  strength  in  Rhode 


104  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Island  would  not  impair  one  whit  his  domina- 
tion of  the  Senate.  But  Piatt  had  nothing 
else ;  that  gone,  all  is  gone. 

This  lends  new  pathos  to  a  scene  that 
enacted  itself  in  Washington  for  two  years ; 
Piatt's  tragic  struggle  to  keep  the  people  here 
from  seeing  his  coming  fall.  He  knew,  of 
course,  that  it  was  coming,  long  before  it  did. 
Odell's  inroads  grew  more  and  more  patent, 
and  as  each  new  citadel  was  wrested  from  him 
the  declining  boss  made  an  effort  so  eager  that 
it  was  almost  frantic  to  keep  the  significance 
of  it  all  away  from  the  people  here  who 
looked  up  to  him  as  New  York's  chief.  It 
seemed  pathetic  then ;  it  was  additionally 
pathetic  afterwards,  when  the  issue  of  Odell's 
remorseless  march  was  plain  to  all. 

He  clung  desperately  to  the  last  shred  of  his 
only  title  to  Washington's  admiration.  Once, 
for  example,  Odell  announced  that  a  bill 
would  be  dragooned  through  the  Legislature. 
It  was  a  bill  which  Piatt  had  always  opposed, 
and  at  Albany  Odell's  announcement  was  ac- 
cepted as  the  beginning  of  the  end.  A  news- 
paper man  went  to  Piatt's  lonely  committee 
room,  and  asked  him  about  it.  It  was  fairly 
pitiful  to  see  the  frenzy  with  which  the  old 
man  insisted  that  he  had  himself  urged 
Odell  to  put  the  bill  through. 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  105 

"  But,"  said  the  reporter,  "  John  Raines, 
your  lieutenant,  says  you  knew  nothing  about 
it  and  that  it  is  in  opposition  to  your  wishes." 

The  old  boss  became  frantic.  ''  John 
Raines  doesn't  know  anything  about  it ;  he 
doesn't  know  anything  about  it !  "  he  cried. 

And  thus,  at  each  new  stage  of  the  decline, 
each  time  when  Odell  brutally  and  remorse- 
lessly tore  away  the  veil  with  which  the  old 
man  was  feebly  and  nervously  trying  to  hide 
his  mortal  wound,  Piatt  pathetically  persisted 
that  the  act  was  his  own. 

So  it  went  until  the  night  at  the  White 
House  in  1904,  where  in  President  Roosevelt's 
presence  the  strong  new  boss  struck  his  pred- 
ecessor down  and  announced  that  there 
should  be  no  more  pretense.  The  demeanor 
of  the  two  men  as  they  left  the  White  House 
after  that  four-hour  talk  was  worthy  the  brush 
of  a  historical  painter.  Piatt,  bowed,  broken, 
utterly  crushed,  tottered  to  his  carriage,  refus- 
ing to  say  a  word  except  to  refer  all  question- 
ers to  the  man  who  had  conquered  him ; 
Odell,  flushed,  triumphant,  strode  away  with 
the  light  of  battle  still  in  his  eyes  and  an  air 
upon  him  so  militant  and  victorious  that,  had 
there  been  passers-by  in  those  deserted  streets, 
his  look  might  have  told  the  veriest  stranger 
all. 


106  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Some  time  afterwards  there  was  a  sad  and 
melancholy  farce  in  New  York,  when  some  of 
Mr.  Piatt's  friends,  headed  by  Depew,  went  to 
Odell  after  a  conference  and  extorted  a  ''  com- 
promise." By  this  ''  compromise  "  Piatt  was 
to  remain  nominal  leader  and  Odell  was  to  run 
the  State  campaign.  It  might  have  interested 
those  who  read  with  open  mouths  of  this 
happy  settlement  and  compact  to  know  that 
this  was  precisely  the  thing  for  which  Odell 
contended  at  the  White  House  the  night  he 
wrested  the  Republican  standard  from  the  old 
flag-bearer's  hands. 

By  the  trembling,  nervous  efforts  Piatt 
long  continued  to  make  to  cover  his  naked- 
ness with  some  rag  of  authority,  one  could  see 
that  he  had  drunk  deep  of  humiliation  ;  but 
he  did  not,  as  it  once  appeared  certain  he 
would,  come  to  drink  to  the  dregs.  That  was 
expected  to  come  when  Odell  either  came  to  the 
Senate  himself  or  sent  some  representative  of 
the  new  knock-down-and-drag-out  system  of 
leadership  which  had  replaced  the  ^'  Easy 
Boss."  Then  would  have  been  seen  the 
spectacle  of  the  wreck  of  a  senator,  the  ghost 
of  a  boss,  sitting  unregarded,  impotent  and 
useless  in  his  senatorial  place,  while  over  his 
head  his  new  colleague  cracked  the  whip  of 
party  rule,  and  while  his  old  acquaintances 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  107 

crowded  around  the  new  man  to  learn  New 
York's  desires.  Had  that  taken  place,  this 
tragedy  of  politics  would  have  reached  its 
climax  ;  it  would  have  been  time  for  the  cur- 
tain to  fall. 

From  that  last  humiliation  some  one,  at  the 
last  moment,  rescued  Piatt.  Whether  it  was 
Roosevelt,  as  Odell  says,  or  Harriman,  as  is 
more  generally  believed,  the  rescuer  came  in 
the  nick  of  time  ;  for  Odell  was  remorselessly 
bent  upon  his  purpose.  But  Piatt  was  saved 
— saved  for  a  humiliation  hardly  less  great, 
when  the  president,  late  in  1905,  turned  upon 
Odell,  and  Piatt  came  hurriedly  to  Washing- 
ton to  ally  himself  with  the  president.  For  a 
moment  the  old  man  dreamed  of  restoration 
to  his  last  throne,  with  the  president's  power- 
ful aid.  For  a  few  days  after  that  interview 
he  went  about  in  his  old  pathetic  fashion, 
making  the  reporters  believe  that  the  presi- 
dent had  fallen  in  with  his  desires.  Then 
the  facts  became  too  plain  ;  it  was  too  evident 
that  Roosevelt  was  not  dethroning  Odell  to 
reinstall  Piatt ;  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life  the  boss  of  so  many  years  threw  up  his 
hands.  "  No,"  he  said  to  the  reporters  on  his 
next  return  to  Washington,  '^  I  have  nothing 
to  do  with  this  fight  except  as  a  spectator." 

Piatt  had  been  driven  to  confess  his  fall. 


108  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

What  that  means  with  him  cannot  be  esti- 
mated save  by  those  who  know  how  long  and 
how  valiantly  he  strove  to  hide  the  truth. 

The   crowning   tragedy  had  been  averted, 
but  it  is  a  tragedy  of  politics  just  the  same. 


VII 

THE  TWO  GOEMANS 

As  these  lines  are  being  written  the  Demo- 
cratic minority  in  the  United  States  Senate  is 
preparing  to  enter  upon  the  great  labor  of  the 
first  session  of  the  Fifty-ninth  Congress — the 
work  of  building  up  public  confidence  in  a 
shattered  party ;  and  entering  upon  it  lead- 
erless.  They  did  not  depose  Arthur  Pue 
Gorman  from  his  nominal  captaincy ;  he 
continued  at  the  head  of  their  Steering  Com- 
mittee ;  but  they  were  leaderless  when  James 
K.  Jones  held  that  place,  and  there  is  no  es- 
sential difference  between  their  position  now 
and  then.  Jones  presided  over  their  caucus 
and  bore  the  name  of  leader  ;  but  every  sena- 
tor was  his  own  captain. 

The  wreck  of  Gorman  as  a  political  leader 
is  a  thing  which  has  been  proceeding  ever 
since  he  reentered  the  Senate  in  1903  and  was 
hoisted  immediately  and  with  acclaim  to  the 
leadership.  It  met  completion  on  election 
day,  in  1905. 

When  Gorman  came  back  to  Washington 
in    1903    Democracy   everywhere   was  glad. 

109 


110  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Now,  it  was  said,  the  rudderless  craft  was  to 
have  a  true  helmsman,  and  Gorman  was  to 
swing  her  immediately  into  the  course  from 
which  she  had  strayed.  The  most  extrava- 
gant prophecies  were  put  forth,  and  the  jubi- 
lation was  not  modified  by  any  recognition  of 
the  bounds  of  possibility.  Incidentally  John 
Sharp  Williams  was  elevated  at  the  same 
time  to  the  leadership  of  the  House  minority, 
but  that  event  escaped  comment ;  no  one  ex- 
pected anything  from  Williams. 

From  the  day  Gorman  took  the  leadership 
his  fame  began  to  crumble.  There  is  nothing 
left  of  it  now.  The  Democrats  have  ceased 
now  to  expect  pyrotechnics  of  glittering  genius 
from  him  ;  they  have  ceased  to  look  for  ordi- 
narily sagacious  leadership. 

At  first  they  looked  on  with  stupefaction ; 
they  kept  expecting  that  to-morrow,  or  next 
week,  or  next  month,  Gorman  would  display 
some  of  the  old-time  genius  which  once  had 
made  him  the  wonder  of  his  followers.  But 
the  day  and  the  week  and  the  month  passed 
by,  and  the  Senate  Democrats  trod  deeper  and 
deeper  into  the  swamp.  Now  they  are  offer- 
ing explanations,  and  saying  that  Gorman 
was  a  great  man  once,  but  is  not  a  great  man 
now  because  his  right  hand  has  lost  its  cun- 
ning ;  and  they  are  preparing  to  follow  Bailey, 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  111 

or  each  other,  or  themselves,  in  the  fight  of 
this  session. 

But  Gorman's  right  hand  has  not  lost  its 
cunning.  He  is  the  old  Gorman  ;  only  the 
age  has  passed  by  and  left  him. 

There  are  two  Gormans — the  Gorman  of 
legend  and  the  Gorman  of  reality.  The  Gor- 
man of  legend  was  a  great  politician,  a  wizard 
of  his  craft,  a  magician,  a  man  who  could  do 
miracles.  That  was  the  Gorman  who  was 
hailed  as  the  Moses  of  the  party  in  1903.  It 
is  the  Gorman  of  reality  whom  the  Democrats 
are  contemplating  now,  in  the  cold  gray  dawn 
of  the  morning  after  the  defeat  in  Maryland. 

"  The  state  of  politics  has  changed  entirely,'^ 
was  Danton's  explanation  to  the  mystified 
politicians  of  France,  who  tried  to  stem  1791 
with  the  broom  of  1785,  of  why  their  efforts 
failed.  That  is  what  is  the  matter  with  Gor- 
man. Politics  to-day  is  not  what  it  was  in 
1880.  It  has  changed,  and  for  the  better. 
The  politics  of  petty  chicane  has  had  its  day. 
Tricks  that  thirty  years  ago  were  chuckled  at 
with  more  or  less  approval,  and  resented  only 
by  the  victims,  arouse  a  storm  to-day.  Morey 
letters  and  Murchison  letters  are  not  sprung  on 
the  eve  of  an  election  now. 

Gorman  cannot  realize  it,  and  he  tries 
pathetically  to  patch  up  his  defeats  with  new 


112  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

tricks.  Least  of  all  does  he  understand  his 
own  State.  Ten  years  ago  Maryland  took  its 
place,  not  only  in  the  column  with  States  of 
the  new  politics,  but  at  the  very  head  of  that 
column.  Gravestones  used  to  vote  in  Mary- 
land. In  default  of  a  handy  gravestone,  you 
could  have  voted  your  pet  dog.  With  the 
revolution  of  ten  years  ago  there  was  such  a 
sweeping  change  that  Maryland  is  intolerant 
now  of  even  what  the  men  of  Gorman^s  day 
looked  upon  as  a  smart  but  honest  trick. 

Maryland  is  naturally  Democratic,  and  in 
1899  she  came  back  to  the  Democratic  column 
with  a  large  fat  majority.  Gorman  resumed 
power.  The  legendary  Gorman,  the  great 
political  wizard,  would  have  seen  the  portents 
of  the  times  ;  he  would  have  taken  the  helm 
with  a  chastened  spirit  and  ruled  in  accord- 
ance with  the  spirit  of  the  strange  and  evil 
days  he  had  fallen  upon.  Instead,  the  real 
Gorman  began  just  where  he  left  off.  As  a 
means  of  regaining  the  confidence  of  Mary- 
land, he  devised  the  trick  ballot. 

The  trick  ballot  is  a  device  to  prevent  voters 
from  voting  as  they  intend.  It  can  be  shifted 
around  from  year  to  year,  to  meet  exigencies 
and  to  foil  persons  who  laboriously  learned 
how  to  meet  the  trick  of  last  year.  For  in- 
stance, having   abolished   party  emblems  on 


ARTHUR    P.    GORMAN. 
A  politician  of  suavity  and  whispers.' 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  113 

the  ballot,  one  year  Gorman  arranged  to  have 
the  names  of  the  Democratic  candidates 
printed  in  Roman  and  those  of  the  Republi- 
cans in  Old  English  ;  rightly  reckoning  that 
it  would  be  hard  for  an  ignorant  voter  to  read 
Old  English.  Another  year,  the  illiterate 
voter  having  learned  to  recognize  the  letters 
"  Rep,"  Gorman  brought  into  being  a  phan- 
tom third  party  and  named  it  ''  Repudiation 
Party,"  to  bring  to  no  account  this  hard-won 
education  of  the  illiterate.  Another  year,  he 
hit  on  the  clever  idea  of  printing  a  broad 
black  line  under  the  Democratic  column  and 
leaving  all  other  columns  innocent  of  black 
lines,  so  that  the  illiterate  Democrat  might 
find  his  way  with  ease  along  the  ballot  and 
the  illiterate  Republican  might  flounder. 

To  Gorman  all  these  things  seemed  honest 
enough  and  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of 
the  times.  They  were  merely  smart.  In  1880 
everybody  would  have  called  them  ingenious. 
And  why  Maryland  should  take  them  so 
seriously  the  Gorman  of  reality  could  not  see. 
The  Gorman  of  legend,  the  great  Gorman, 
would  have  known. 

It  was  Gorman,  they  say,  who  defeated 
Blaine  by  seizing  upon  Burchard's  hapless 
"  Rum,  Romanism  and  Rebellion  "  utterance 
and  plastering  the  dead  walls  of  New  York 


114  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

with  it  just  before  election.  Whether  Gorman 
deserves  the  credit  of  this  or  not,  it  was  a 
Gormanism  in  spirit.  That  was  in  1884,  and 
Gorman  is  living  in  that  year  yet. 

When  he  came  to  the  Senate  leadership  his 
course  seemed  simple.  It  was  to  oppose  every- 
thing President  Roosevelt  might  do — oppose 
it  quite  impartially  and  without  regard  to  any 
other  consideration  than  its  authorship — and 
pick  up,  by  clever  maneuvering  in  the  Senate, 
little  feathers  of  party  prestige  to  be  added  to 
the  Democratic  plume. 

The  despised  Williams  hit  on  the  other 
policy.  He  ranged  the  House  Democrats  up 
for  Cuban  reciprocity,  because  it  promised  a 
reduction  of  the  tariff  and  the  Democrats 
were  pledged  to  tariff  reduction.  About  half 
Williams's  followers  were  opposed  to  Cuban 
reciprocity.  No  matter,  he  drove  them  into 
line,  and  they  supported  it.  The  wrecked  and 
chaotic  minority  which  Richardson  had  led 
swung  into  line  and  voted  almost  solidly  for 
it  under  Williams. 

Gorman  observed  that  the  reciprocity  plan 
proceeded  from  Roosevelt,  so  he  opposed  it. 
When  it  came  to  a  vote  he  had  been  so  thor- 
oughly deserted  by  his  followers  that  he  voted 
for  it. 

Williams  supported  the   president   on   the 


SENATE  POETRAITS  115 

Panama  Canal  issue.  Gorman  opposed  the 
canal.  He  was  astonished  to  find  that  his  fol- 
lowers would  not  follow  him.  The  reason 
was  that  the  South  had  to  have  the  canal — as 
Representative  Richardson  of  Alabama  said, 
"  We  must  have  it  if  we  have  to  take  stolen 
property  '^ — and  Mr.  Gorman's  followers  were 
chiefly  from  the  South.  The  legendary  Gor- 
man would  have  known  that.  The  Gorman 
of  reality  saw  only  a  chance  to  oppose  the 
president. 

These  were  the  only  great  issues  of  the 
Fifty-eighth  Congress,  and  on  both  Gorman 
was  out- voted  by  his  followers.  He  could  not 
understand  such  an  extraordinary  situation. 
He,  who  had  always  been  a  politician  of 
suavity  and  whispers,  lost  his  temper  and 
raised  his  voice  when  he  talked  to  his  fol- 
lowers ;  and  made  them  angry. 

Meanwhile  the  Democrats  were  beginning 
to  look  askance  at  their  leader.  While  this 
was  going  on  in  Washington,  other  things 
were  happening  in  Maryland.  He  had  prom- 
ised the  senatorship  to  John  Walter  Smith, 
then  governor.  When  the  time  came  for 
election  Gorman  decided  not  to  deliver  the 
goods.  This,  too,  was  the  politics  of  1884  ; 
but  in  1884  it  would  have  succeeded.  In 
1904  it  elected  Rayner  to  the  Senate ;  and 


116  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Gorman  was  faced  at  the  same  time  with  a 
revolt  against  his  leadership  in  Washington 
and  a  defeat  in  the  Legislature  of  his  own  State. 
In  1905  he  tried  to  impose  on  Maryland  a 
system  which,  according  to  the  independent 
Democrats  of  his  State,  would  have  enabled 
the  Gorman  machine  to  decide  whether  an 
anti-Gorman  voter  should  vote  or  not,  and 
thus  perpetuate  the  control  of  his  dynasty. 
He  was  dimly  aware,  by  this  time,  that  things 
had  changed  since  1884 ;  so  he  masked  the 
device  by  making  it  appear  that  it  was  a 
plan  to  disfranchise  the  negroes,  a  popular 
scheme  in  Maryland.  This  would  have  been 
a  clever  stratagem  in  1884.  In  1905  it  re- 
sulted in  a  smash  for  the  Democratic  party. 
It  had  gone  into  power  in  1899  with  every 
chance  to  perpetuate  its  control.  That  chance 
had   been  frittered  away  by  the  use  of  the 

'  clever  stratagems  of  1884  ;  by  the  use  of  anti- 

*  quated  weapons. 

Gorman  in  1905  was  still  using  Springfield 
rifles. 

Away  back  in  1903,  when  Gorman  assumed 
the  leadership,  there  were  a  few  persons  who 
did  not  burst  their  gloves  in  the  general 
Democratic  handclapping.  They  were  young 
Democratic  senators  from  the  West  and  South ; 
men   who  were   unknown   in   politics  when 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  117 

Gorman  was  great.  They  never  did  trust 
him  as  a  leader,  and  as  time  went  on  they 
kept  saying,  "  I  told  you  so."  To-day  their 
ranks  in  the  Senate  are  much  swollen. 

The  great  fight  before  the  Fifty-ninth  Con- 
gress is  on  the  railroad  rate  question.  It  is  a 
Roosevelt  policy,  and  Gorman  was  expected 
to  lead  the  opposition  to  it.  In  the  House 
Williams  has  been  declaring  himself  strongly 
for  it.  In  the  Senate  the  outlook  is  that 
many,  probably  a  majority,  of  the  Democrats 
will  declare  themselves  for  it.  Their  leader 
will  be  Bailey. 

Whenever  any  one,  in  the  casual  gossip  of 
hotels  and  other  political  centres,  speaks  of 
the  Democratic  policy  in  the  coming  session, 
he  speaks  of  Bailey.  If  any  one  mentions 
Gorman,  he  says,  ''  Oh,  yes,  of  course — Gor- 
man." But  after  that  he  goes  on  talking 
about  Bailey. 

Bailey  wants  it  understood  that  he  is  not  a 
follower  of  the  president.  He  says  he  advo- 
cated railroad  rate  regulation  before  ever 
Roosevelt  did.  If  Roosevelt  has  come  into 
line,  that  is  no  reason  why  he,  Bailey,  should 
desert  his  own  colors  merely  for  the  childish 
luxury  of  opposition.  If  this  sounds  like  a 
satire  on  Gorman,  Bailey  cannot  help  it; 
neither  does  he  care. 


118  SENATE  POETRAITS 

There  is  nothing  of  1884  about  Bailey.  The 
Southern  politicians  admire  him  and  love 
him.  They  regard  him  as  a  great  leader.  In 
the  Senate  the  Republicans  respect  him  very 
much,  fear  him  a  little,  and  like  him  a  great 
deal.  He  is  a  big,  calm-eyed  man,  slow  of 
speech,  tremendously  prepared  on  all  ques- 
tions senatorial.  He  does  not  play  tricks,  and 
is  hotly  contemptuous  and  intolerant  of  them. 
He  does  not  maneuvre  for  little  petty  points  of 
party  advantage,  and  is  ferociously  wrathful 
when  one  seeks  so  to  maneuvre  at  his  expense. 
That  was  why  he  upset  an  inkstand  on  Mr. 
Beveridge  on  a  certain  historic  occasion,  much 
to  the  detriment  of  his  own  fame.  For  Bai- 
ley's weak  point,  as  a  leader,  is  his  hot  temper. 

Gorman  has  no  such  weak  point.  He  is 
suavity  itself  He  is  as  voiceless,  privately, 
as  Samuel  J.  Tilden.  He  is  a  man  of  confabs 
in  corners.  He  is  a  handsome  man,  with  a 
fine  mane  of  gray  hair.  He  is  good  to  look 
at  and  pleasant  to  hear.  He  looks  so  much 
like  a  great  leader  that  it  is  hard  to  realize 
that  he  is  not. 

He  was,  once — in  1884.  In  fact,  he  was  up 
to  1895.  But  times  have  changed.  The  Gor- 
man of  legend  is  gone. 


VIII 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  BAILEY 

As  the  convening  of  the  Fifty-ninth  Con- 
gress marked  the  end  of  Gorman's  real  leader- 
ship, so  it  marked  the  definite  advance  of 
Bailey  to  a  position  in  which  such  leadership 
as  attaches  to  intellectual  preeminence  was 
his.  He  never  could  be  a  party  general,  as 
Gorman  was.  He  is  not  a  manipulator  and 
could  not  become  one.  His  leadership  in  the 
House  of  Representatives  was  unsuccessful  for 
that  reason.  In  the  sense  of  being  a  maneu- 
verer,  a  strategist,  a  political  chess-player,  Bai- 
ley can  never  be  a  leader  anywhere.  But  he 
is  a  leader  on  great  public  questions.  He  stands 
head  and  shoulders  above  the  other  Demo- 
crats of  the  Senate.  He  is  a  commanding  fig- 
ure among  his  fellows.  He  can  lead  them  on 
questions  of  principle  ;  never  in  chess-playing. 

His  full  proportions  are  becoming  known  to 
his  countrymen,  and  he  is  unquestionably  the 
foremost  figure  in  the  minority.  He  has 
been  forging  resistlessly  to  the  front  for  years, 
and  to-day  there  is  no  dissent  anywhere  in 
the  Senate  from  his  recognition  as  the  strongest 

1X9 


120  SENATE  POKTEAITS 

personality  and  ablest  man  on  the  Democratic 
side. 

He  is  a  politician  of  a  highly  modern  type 
— so  far  as  he  is  a  politician  at  all ;  for  you 
can  start  an  argument  in  Washington  at  any 
time  by  calling  Bailey  a  politician.  He  dis- 
dains the  ordinary  arts  of  politics.  He  pulls 
no  wires  and  has  not  the  patience  to  roll  a 
log.  If  he  had  had  to  run  a  machine  to  get 
into  the  Senate,  as  they  do  in  some  northern 
States,  he  would  never  have  got  out  of  Gaines- 
ville. 

In  Washington  he  is  regarded  as  the  near- 
est approach  to  a  great  statesman  the  Demo- 
cratic party  can  muster.  In  Texas  there  are 
many  who  hate  him  bitterly,  but  none  of 
those  who  hate  him  attempt  to  detract  from 
his  great  ability.  On  the  Democratic  side  of 
the  Senate  he  is  looked  upon  as  the  coming 
man. 

He  is  a  growing  man,  too.  He  is  not  the 
Bailey  of  Gainesville  nor  the  Bailey  of  the 
House  of  Representatives  ;  he  is  not  even  the 
Bailey  of  a  year  or  two  years  ago.  He  is 
young.  It  has  been  a  misfortune  for  him,  in 
some  respects,  that  he  began  his  public  career 
as  a  boy  and  that  his  character  has  developed 
and  shaped  itself  in  the  glare  of  public  re- 
nown.     Other    men    go    through    years    of 


\ 


JOSEPH    W.    BAIL:EY. 
There  is  an  accent  of  finality  about  a  Bailey  speech. 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  121 

preparation  and  are  seasoned  and  developed 
by  the  time  they  attract  public  attention. 
Bailey  had  to  commit  his  mistakes  and  learn 
his  lessons  after  he  had  become  a  national 
figure. 

In  the  campaign  of  1904  a  New  York  paper 
published  some  scathing  editorials  recalling 
some  lawlessness  of  Bailey's  years  ago,  and 
inquiring  whether  such  a  man  could  be  taken 
as  a  fit  guide  by  men  who  were  law-abiding 
and  safe  and  sane.  The  charge  was  that 
Bailey  in  1884  had  taken  the  lead  in  some 
illegal  suppression  of  negro  votes  in  Copiah 
County,  Mississippi.  It  looked  convincing. 
What  was  omitted  was  the  fact  that  at  the 
time  of  this  discouragement  of  the  negro  vote 
Bailey  had  reached  the  mature  age  of  twenty. 

It  is  much  to  Bailey's  credit  that  a  man 
who  began  amid  such  surroundings  as  his 
could  have  carved  out  such  a  career.  His 
early  life  in  Mississippi  was  spent  amid  a 
rough  and  lawless  environment.  The  at- 
mosphere of  his  boyhood  was  that  of  a  coun- 
try groggery  ;  for  it  was  in  a  tavern  that  Bailey 
grew  to  manhood.  His  boy  companions  were 
rough  and  reckless  spirits.  It  was  in  those 
days  that  Bailey  took  those  measures  to  en- 
large the  Democratic  majority  which  rose  to 
plague  him  in  the  last  campaign. 


122  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

All  the  time  Bailey  had  it  in  him  to  do 
better  things.  He  could  not  do  them  in 
Copiah  County.  An  uncle  in  Philadelphia, 
a  merchant,  named  Joseph  Weldon,  gave  his 
young  namesake  his  chance  to  get  into  dif- 
ferent surroundings,  where  his  ability  could 
have  a  chance.     He  sent  the  boy  to  Texas. 

One  day  there  dawned  upon  Gainesville  an 
apparition  which  made  that  town  sit  up  and 
rub  its  eyes.  It  was  a  tall,  lank  young  man 
with  an  enormous  slouch  hat  and  enveloped 
in  a  tremendous  coat.  His  hair  hung  down 
on  his  shoulders  in  a  fashion  to  give  pangs  of 
envy  to  Buffalo  Bill  and  Colonel  John  A. 
Joyce.  He  was  not  at  all  a  typical  South- 
erner ;  he  was  the  South  intensified  and  exag- 
gerated a  hundred  times.  He  was  the  stage 
Southerner  done  into  real  life. 

In  Gainesville  they  were  not  used  to  such 
sights.  Bailey  did  not  know  there  was  any- 
thing wrong  with  his  appearance  ;  his  make- 
up was  all  right  for  Copiah  County.  It  had 
never  attracted  any  attention  in  those  wilds. 

But  Gainesville  did  not  get  much  chance  to 
laugh  at  Bailey.  Raw  boy  as  he  was,  queer 
and  countrified  as  his  aspect  was,  and  full  of 
strange  affectations  as  he  was,  there  was  that 
in  him  which  compelled  not  only  attention 
but  respect  and  could  not  be  hidden  or  per- 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  123 

verted  by  all  the  eccentricities  and  crude- 
nesses  of  youthful  egotism. 

At  once  he  sprang  to  prominence  and 
leadership.  He  was  a  delegate  to  a  dead- 
locked Congressional  Convention.  Some  one 
proposed  to  break  the  deadlock  by  nominating 
Bailey.  The  suggestion  swept  the  convention 
like  wildfire.  Bailey  was  pledged  to  another 
candidate  and  did  everything  he  could  to  de- 
feat himself,  but  in  vain.  At  last  he  had  an 
inspiration.  Springing  on  a  chair,  he  shouted 
out  that  he  was  not  old  enough  to  be  elected ; 
he  was  not  yet  twenty-five. 

That  settled  it,  and  his  own  candidate  was 
nominated.  Strictly  speaking,  he  had  told 
the  truth  ;  but  he  had  suppressed  the  fact  that 
he  would  be  twenty-five  by  the  following  year, 
when  he  would  have  taken  his  seat  if  elected. 
It  was  a  generous  subterfuge,  the  whitest  of 
white  lies,  and  saved  the  candidate  whom 
Bailey  was  supporting  at  a  cost  which  many 
an  ambitious  young  man  in  his  place  would 
not  have  paid. 

Two  years  later  he  entered  the  field  against 
his  former  candidate  and  won  hands  down. 
He  was  a  marked  man  from  the  day  he  took 
his  seat  in  Congress,  fourteen  years  ago.  His 
many  eccentricities  were  ridiculed  and  lam- 
pooned mercilessly ;  but  no  ridicule  could  so 


l24  SENATE  POUTKAITS 

much  as  dent  the  solid  fact  of  his  great  ability, 
and  he  continued  to  advance  resistlessly  to  the 
front. 

All  the  time  he  was  fighting  down  his  own 
errors  and  learning,  under  the  unsympathetic 
scrutiny  of  millions  of  eyes,  those  lessons  of 
bitter  experience  which  other  men  learn  long 
before  they  meet  the  test  of  fame.  That  lanky 
youth  with  the  black  mane  seems  an  impos- 
sibility now  as  one  looks  at  the  Bailey  of  to- 
day ;  a  full-faced,  handsome,  stately  man, 
moving  with  a  lazy  majesty  and  commanding 
the  strained  attention  of  the  nation's  solons 
when  his  slow,  sonorous  voice  begins  to  roll 
out  across  the  Senate  chamber. 

It  is  not  merely  to  his  ability  that  the 
senators  pay  tribute.  They  pay  it  also  to  his 
character  ;  to  the  tremendous  sincerity  of  the 
man  and  to  his  dead-level  loyalty  to  his  own 
convictions.  Nothing  on  earth  could  induce 
Bailey  to  support  a  measure  he  did  not  think 
right ;  and  he  thinks  out  his  positions  for  him- 
self. He  is  incapable,  too,  of  taking  an  atti- 
tude on  a  public  question  for  the  sake  of  play- 
ing politics.  His  presence  in  the  Senate  has 
been  for  two  years  a  standing  satire  on  Gor- 
man. 

It  is  a  hard  matter  to  affect  the  Senate  by  a 
speech".     Except  Spooner,  there  is  no  man  in 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  125 

its  membership  who  can  do  it  as  Bailey  can. 
The  clearness  and  resistlessness  of  his  logic 
have  a  compelling  force  that  works  powerfully 
on  even  so  cynical  a  body  as  the  upper  House. 
It  is  a  sight  worth  seeing  when  Spooner  sits 
under  the  fall  of  Bailey's  slow  drip  of  oratory, 
as  deeply  engrossed  and  painfully  attentive  as 
a  schoolgirl  on  the  last  lap  of  the  latest  novel. 
It  is  a  tribute  Spooner  does  not  pay  to  his 
own  party  colleagues;  he  is  frivolous  about 
Republican  oratory,  Spooner  is. 

Spooner  is  mentioned  because  everybody 
regards  him  as  the  ablest  thinker  and  speaker 
on  the  Republican  side.  Everybody  else  is 
similarly  attentive  when  Bailey  speaks. 
There  is  an  accent  of  finality  about  a  Bailey 
speech.  When  he  slowly  emerges  from  be- 
hind his  desk  and  begins  to  drop  his  argument 
into  some  hotly-debated  question,  the  argu- 
ment goes  to  the  bottom  of  that  question  with 
a  crash.  After  it  there  is  nothing  more  to 
say,  on  the  Democratic  side.  It  is  very 
seldom  indeed  that  any  Democratic  senator 
makes  a  speech  after  Bailey.  When  he 
finishes  there  is  nothing  left  of  the  subject 
that  people  who  agree  with  him  can  talk 
about.  He  has  gone  around  it  and  through  it 
and  behind  it. 

It  must  not  be  understood  that  Bailey  is  a 


126  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

prolix  talker,  despite  his  thoroughness.  He 
does  not  often  speak.  When  he  does  he  has 
steeped  himself  so  thoroughly  in  his  subject 
that  he  does  not  need  to  talk  all  day.  Every 
sentence  is  compact  and  full  of  meat.  It 
would  be  unthinkable  for  Bailey  to  talk  for  a 
week  in  the  fashion  of  John  T.  Morgan.  It 
takes  a  good  deal  of  churning  to  get  a  pat  of 
butter  out  of  a  pan  of  milk.  A  Bailey  speech 
is  the  pat  of  butter  and  a  Morgan  speech  is 
the  pan  of  milk. 

When  Bailey  arises  to  deliver  one  of  these 
speeches  he  usually  stands  with  the  tips  of 
his  fingers  touching  his  desk  and  lets  his  talk 
fall  with  a  slow,  indolent,  resistless  drip.  He 
often  parts  his  w^ords  in  the  middle,  leaving  a 
pause  between  syllables.  When  he  rises  to  an 
occasional  flight  of  eloquence  it  is  not  lugged 
in  ;  it  belongs  there  and  could  not  be  left  out. 
On  such  occasions  his  slow  voice  rises  and 
booms  out  like  a  church  organ ;  the  fingers 
leave  the  desk  and  the  hands  rise  in  gestures 
that  are  not  of  elocution  schools  like  Fair- 
banks's  or  of  imitation  wrath  and  excitement 
like  Beveridge's,  but  of  natural  grace.  He 
despises  the  conventional  oratorical  tricks, 
such  as  the  rising  inflection  at  the  end  of  the 
sentence  ;  but  he  has  one  effective  oratorical 
trick  of  his  own,  which  consists  of  bringing 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  12Y 

one  of  his  bursts  of  eloquence  by  slow  degrees 
to  its  highest  point  of  voice  and  gesture  and 
closing  it  by  uttering  the  last  three  or  four 
words  of  the  sentence  in  a  conversational  tone. 
It  is  difficult  to  give  an  idea  of  the  effect  of 
this  in  print,  but  when  it  happens  persons 
who  are  amenable  to  such  things  find  little 
thrills  running  up  and  down  their  spines  and 
feel  a  desire  to  bite  pieces  out  of  the  furniture. 
His  worst  mistake  since  he  came  to  the 
Senate  was  committed  when  he  administered 
to  Mr.  Beveridge  a  course  of  treatment  that 
was  utterly  improper  but  urgently  invited. 
Those  who  read  the  colloquy  which  preceded 
this  castigation  were  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it. 
There  was  nothing  in  Beveridge's  language 
which  called  for  heroics.  To  those  who  were 
present  there  was  no  mystery  about  it.  Bailey 
was  delivering  a  serious  argument,  and  Bev- 
eridge was  harassing  him  with  petty  pin- 
pricks. It  was  Beveridge's  object  to  turn  and 
twist  and  distort  some  Bailey  sentence  into 
something  which  would  serve  as  an  admission 
to  the  credit  of  the  Republican  party.  The 
nature  of  Bailey's  argument  was  several  de- 
grees above  Beveridge.  Bailey  tried  to  avoid 
him  and  go  on  in  the  path  of  his  argument. 
The  pin-pricks  continued,  hour  by  hour,  un- 
til persons  familiar  with  Bailey's  hot  temper 


J28  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

began  to  wonder  how  soon  Beveridge  would 
succeed  in  provoking  a  breach  of  the  peace. 
The  scene  suggested  an  Indian  elephant  try- 
ing to  make  a  path  through  the  jungle  and 
being  interrupted  by  the  attentions  of  a  mos- 
quito. At  last  Bailey  gave  up  trying  to  talk 
at  all.  He  waited  till  the  Senate  had  ad- 
journed and  then  indulged  himself  in  the 
colossal  error  of  his  career. 

As  he  grows  older  he  is  getting  better  con- 
trol of  his  temper.  With  that  conquered  no 
debits  will  be  recorded  on  his  standing  as  a 
statesman.  If  he  came  from  the  North  the 
Democrats  would  undoubtedly  nominate  him 
for  president  some  day,  for  they  all  admire 
him  intensely.  Even  as  it  is,  there  has  been 
presidential  talk  about  him.  In  1904  some 
enthusiasts  waited  on  him  to  urge  him  to  run. 
Bailey  listened  to  them  with  serious  courtesy, 
and  then  said  in  his  tone  of  grave  finality  : 

''  Gentlemen,  I  thank  you,  but  your  sug- 
gestion is  impossible.  On  the  wall  of  my 
office  at  Gainesville  there  hangs  a  picture  of 
Jefferson  Davis." 


IX 
SENATOR  TILLMAN,  DESPAIR  OF  ANALYSTS 

There  was  nothing  epoch-making,  nothing 
historic,  about  the  long  session  of  the  Fifty- 
eighth  Congress  ;  not  even  the  birth  of  the 
Panama  Canal  and  the  Panama  Republic,  for 
thereon  Congress  was  a  ratification  meeting. 
History,  dealing  with  Panama,  will  concern 
itself  with  what  was  done  by  the  administra- 
tion before  Congress  convened,  and  will  men- 
tion, not  the  solemn  debates  and  the  foregone 
conclusion  of  a  treaty,  but  the  conferences  at 
the  White  House  the  previous  summer  and 
the  November  telegrams  of  ^'  Loomis,  Acting." 

And  yet  the  session  of  1904  deserves  one 
niche  in  history.  It  was  the  only  one  in 
many  years  which  passed  on  to  its  grave 
among  dead  Congresses  with  a  record  of  only 
one  characteristic  outbreak  by  Benjamin  Ryan 
Tillman.  And  that  outbreak  was  a  very  mild 
one.  In  this  regard  this  do-nothing  session 
is  certainly  enabled  to  shine  with  a  bright 
historical  light.  It  holds  the  grand  prix 
among  all  expositions  where  Tillman  has  been 
an  exhibitor. 

129 


130  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

The  exhibition  referred  to  was  displayed  for 
a  more  or  less  admiring  world  about  the 
middle  of  the  session.  Mr.  Warren,  a  humble 
senator  from  Wyoming  who  had  never  before 
attracted  the  calcium  rays  from  the  top  gallery, 
wandered  into  the  Senate  feeling  very  happy 
from  some  unspecified  cause,  and  observed 
Tillman  making  gyrations  of  a  Tillmanesque 
sort  and  holding  forth  to  the  discomfiture  and 
rout  of  Mr.  Bailey  of  Texas.  Mr.  Bailey  did 
not  know  he  was  being  routed,  but  that  is  a 
side  issue. 

Mr.  Warren,  feeling  frisky  as  aforesaid, 
glanced  towards  the  gyrating  and  expostu- 
lating Tillman,  and  perceived  a  large  thick 
bottle  protruding  from  his  pocket.  He  slipped 
across  the  aisle,  abstracted  the  bottle,  publicly 
and  ostentatiously  smelt  thereof,  and  returned 
it  to  the  Pitchfork  pocket. 

Later  a  serious-minded  senator  informed 
Tillman  of  the  incident  and  he  arose  and  de- 
claimed. Warren  abjectly  apologized,  but 
later  the  observations  of  both  gentlemen,  by 
unanimous  consent,  were  stricken  out  of  that 
unreliable  and  mendacious  publication,  the 
Congressional  Record.  The  burden  of  Till- 
man's remarks  was  that  he  did  not  like  to  be 
held  forth  to  the  country  as  a  person  of  loose 
habits,  when  the  bottle  contained  boracic  acid. 


I 


BENJAMIN    R.    TILLMAN. 
A  strange  man,  little  known  even  by  his  colleagues.' 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  131 

with  which  he  was  trying  to  repel  the  ravages 
of  something  which  had  recently  assailed  his 
throat. 

All  would  have  been  well  had  not  Tillman 
added  to  this  one  of  his  characteristic  out- 
breaks. He  said  he  never  got  drunk  except 
at  banquets,  and  even  then  he  could  find  his 
way  home  without  being  loaded  into  a  cab. 
Though  this  was  excised  from  the  Con- 
gressional Record  after  Mr.  Hoar  and  other 
dignified  gentlemen  had  argued  with  Mr. 
Tillman,  it  got  into  the  newspapers,  and  there 
was  more  matter  for  horrified  gesticulation  on 
the  part  of  the  good  people  whom  the  Pitch- 
fork senator  delights  to  horrify.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  an  additional  shade  of  red  was 
added  to  the  mental  picture  of  the  brutal, 
savage,  cannibal  senator  from  South  Carolina 
which  many  good  people  of  the  North  use  for 
baby-frightening  purposes. 

It  is  good  time  to  tell  the  truth  about  Till- 
man, though  he  will  not  tell  it  about  himself, 
and  though  he  delights  to  say  things  that 
make  it  well-nigh  impossible  for  even  his 
well-wishers  to  ascertain  it.  This  incident  is 
a  genre  picture  of  it.  So  serious  was  that 
throat  trouble,  at  which  many  people  scoffed 
and  in  which  few  (in  the  North)  believed,  that 
for  the  rest  of  the  session  Tillman  was  down 


132  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

in  South  Carolina  battling  with  it,  withdrawn 
from  a  scene  in  which  he  delights  and  where 
he  would  rather  be,  war-paint  on,  than  any- 
where else  in  the  world.  Boracic  acid  had  to 
give  way  to  more  stringent  remedies,  and  Till- 
man for  months  was  fighting,  if  not  for  life, 
at  least  for  health. 

It  affords  a  side-light  on  the  whole.  De- 
liberately Tillman  holds  out  his  worst  side  to 
the  public.  Deliberately  he  paints  himself  as 
a  savage,  wearing  a  breech-clout  and  brandish- 
ing a  spear,  and  deliberately  he  shocks  and 
paralyzes  decent  sentiment  in  the  North  and 
the  best  part  of  the  South.  Even  in  his  own 
home  of  South  Carolina,  there  are  good 
mothers  who  at  night  hush  their  offspring  to 
sleep  with  the  name  of  Tillman. 

And  all  the  time  he  is  as  good  a  fellow,  as 
sensible  and  decent  a  citizen,  and  as  wise  a 
man,  as  one  could  wish  to  meet  with.  The 
proof?  If  proof  be  asked,  what  more  con- 
vincing proof  could  be  offered  than  the  fact 
that  his  warmest  admirer  in  the  Senate  was 
George  Frisbie  Hoar  of  Massachusetts  ?  The 
two  men  were  thicker  than  thieves ;  like 
seeks  like,  even  though  it  be  disguised  by  a 
rough  outside  and  a  savage  mask,  and  Hoar 
knew  Tillman  to  be  a  man.  The  Pilgrim  an- 
swered  to   the   Palmetto  as  old  Butler  and 


SENATE  PORTKAITS  133 

Hampton  and  all  those  cavaliers  were  never 
able  to  make  him  do. 

Why  did  Tillman  deliberately  seek  to 
spread  abroad  the  impression  that  he  retired 
from  banquets  in  delirium,  that  his  sobriety 
was  only  for  the  Senate  ?  The  question  is  the 
despair  of  his  admirers,  all  the  more  their  de- 
spair for  the  reason  that  the  man  is  absolutely 
sober,  temperate,  in  every  way  decent  and  re- 
spectable. But  the  deeper  question  is.  Why 
does  he  spread  abroad  the  idea  that  he  is  a 
wild  man  politically ;  that  he  drinks  blood 
and  eats  raw  meat,  when  he  is  as  level-headed 
and  sane  a  man  as  the  world  ever  saw  ?  Why 
does  he  pose  as  a  Wilkes,  and  seek  that  place 
in  history,  when  his  friends  know  better? 

It  is  the  unsolvable  mystery  of  this  complex 
character.  It  is  probable  that  ''  Silas  Larra- 
bee,"  that  wise  old  Maine  philosopher,  solved 
the  question  in  his  dialect  sketches  in  the 
New  York  Times  some  years  ago,  when  he  said 
that  the  lion  Tillman  loved  the  jackass's  hide, 
and  that  it  was  a  pity.  He  does  seem  to 
love  it. 

It  is  not  long  ago  that  Tillman,  rising  in 
his  place  in  the  Senate,  declared  that  Abra- 
ham Lincoln  was  the  greatest  figure  of  the 
Civil  War.  "And  I,"  he  said,  and  then 
paused   and  looked  upon  the  men  who  re- 


134  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

membered  South  Carolina's  outbreak  which 
established  the  Southern  Confederacy — '*  and 
I,  from  South  Carolina '' — and  he  emphasized 
the  name  of  his  State,  and  stopped  and  waited 
— ''  I,  from  South  Carolina,  tell  you  so,  and 
feel  honored  in  doing  it." 

Does  any  one  think  this  mere  clap-trap, 
platitude — that  South  Carolina  to-day  accepts 
Lincoln  as  the  greatest  of  modern  men,  and 
that  Tillman  voiced  a  platitude  ?  The  bloody 
shirt  still  waves  in  South  Carolina,  if  nowhere 
else ;  and  it  is  much  to  be  doubted  if  any 
member  of  the  old  Hampton  aristocracy, 
which  Tillman  unhorsed,  would  feel  safe  in 
saying  that. 

And  having  said  it,  with  his  friend  Hoar's 
face  lifted  admiringly  and  gratefully  towards 
his,  Tillman  plunged  into  more  excesses  of 
speech  and  tore  the  welkin  into  ribbons. 

Such  a  man  is  the  despair  of  analysts. 
Men  come  here  bitterly  prejudiced  against 
him,  hating  his  name  ;  they  meet  him  and  go 
away  his  admirers,  puzzled  about  him,  but 
trusting  him  unalterably.  He  is  the  most 
extraordinary  compound  in  the  United  States 
Senate. 

He  walked  out  of  the  Senate  into  the 
marble  room  one  day  after  a  speech  which 
set  the  whole  North  raving  against  this  man 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  135 

who  ate  the  flesh  and  drank  the  blood  of 
negroes ;  and  what  he  had  said  well  justified 
the  raving.  Even  his  Southern  colleagues 
looked  shocked. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  meeting  the  writer,  ''  I 
suppose  I'll  be  a  demon  in  the  papers  to-mor- 
row. They'll  leave  out  all  the  serious  things 
I  said,  and  publish  the  hifalutin.  It's  my 
fault,  though,  and  I  don't  mind  it.  Still,  I 
would  have  liked  to  get  my  real  ideas  before 
the  people." 

This  man,  this  bitter  enemy  of  the  negroes, 
according  to  common  report,  is  better  loved 
by  negroes  than  any  man  in  Washington. 
There  is  not  a  negro  who  has  ever  met  him 
whose  face  will  not  light  up  if  you  mention 
Tillman's  name.  In  moments  of  unusual 
candor  Tillman  has  himself  admitted  that 
he  loves  the  negroes  and  that  he  is  proud 
of  their  love.  That  .he  is  more  liberal  to- 
wards the  North,  in  his  candid  moments, 
than  any  other  Southern  senator,  is  a  fact  well 
known. 

Is  it  not  strange,  then,  that  some  peculiar 
mental  twist  impels  this  man  of  gentle  life,  of 
broad  views,  and  of  soft  and  kindly  character, 
to  hold  himself  out  as  the  worst  representative 
of  savagery  and  the  reactionary  element  in 
civilization  ?     Yet  it  would  be  unfair  to  call 


136  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

Tillman  uncandid  and  a  poseur ;  when  he  is 
uttering  these  things  he  believes  them. 

A  strange  combination  of  characteristics  is 
Benjamin  Ryan  Tillman,  defender  of  lynch 
law  in  the  Senate,  on  his  South  Carolina  plan- 
tation the  idol  of  his  '^  darkies."  A  strange 
man,  little  known  even  by  his  colleagues. 
He  will  be  fortunate  if  this  generation  learns 
him  aright ;  it  will  be  a  miracle  if  posterity 
ever  knows  the  real  man. 


"THE  GEAND  YOUNG  MAN  OF  INDIANA '' 

When  the  big  debates  of  the  Fifty-ninth 
Congress  begin  there  will  be,  as  always,  the 
usual  alignment  of  the  cast.  In  the  Senate 
each  man  will  drop  naturally  into  the  part  as- 
signed to  him,  which,  at  least  as  far  as  the 
leaders  are  concerned,  will  be  quite  different 
from  the  part  played  by  anybody  else.  Some 
of  the  parts  are  already  cast.  The  duty  of 
dispensing  flowers  of  rhetoric,  for  instance, 
will  be  discharged  on  the  Democratic  side  by 
Senator  Rayner  and  on  the  Republican  side 
by  Senator  Beveridge.  The  parts  played  by 
Aldrich,  Bailey,  Elkins  and  others  will  be 
quite  different. 

There  is  this  difference  between  Rayner  and 
Beveridge,  that  Rayner's  part  will  not  be  con- 
fined to  the  dispensing  of  rhetoric.  Rayner 
has  a  habit  of  emotional  eloquence  which  is 
as  thoroughly  confirmed  in  him  as  is  the  same 
habit  in  Beveridge.  But,  in  addition  to  that, 
he  is  a  man  whose  judgment  is  respected  and 
whose  utterances,  despite  the  fervid  form  in 
which  they  are  sometimes  couched,  command 

137 


138  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

attention  and  are  thoughtfully  digested.  This 
is  not  always  the  case  with  Beveridge. 

The  fact  that  Rayner  is  more  mature  than 
Beveridge  is  not  due  to  the  difference  in  their 
ages.  Rayner  is  only  twelve  years  older  than 
Beveridge,  but  he  has  been  mature  all  that 
time  and  much  longer.  Beveridge's  warmest 
admirers  offer  no  hope  that  he  will  ever  be 
any  maturer  than  he  is  now.  The  references 
to  Beveridge  as  ''  the  young  senator  from 
Indiana  "  create  the  impression  of  giddy  and 
irresponsible  youth.  As  a  fact  he  is  forty- 
three  years  old,  four  years  younger  than 
President  Roosevelt  and  three  years  older 
than  Mayor  McClellan,  and  eight  years  past 
the  time  of  life  at  which  some  railroads  refuse 
to  employ  new  men  because  of  their  advanced 
age. 

Beveridge  came  to  the  Senate  heralded  by  a 
great  reputation  as  a  ''  boy  orator."  Some 
men  live  down  that  reputation  ;  Bryan  did, 
for  instance.  Beveridge  has  never  lived  it 
down.  He  is  a  great  weaver  of  words,  and 
Mr.  Dooley  appreciatively  and  admiringly  re- 
marked of  his  first  speech  in  the  Senate, 
"  'Twas  a  speech  ye  cud  waltz  to."  And  yet 
his  word  symphonies  do  not  profoundly  move 
men,  as  did  those  of  Ingersoll  and  of  Hay, 
and  as  do,  on  some  occasions,  those  of  Rayner. 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  139 

It  is  partly  on  account  of  his  voice,  which  is 
rather  metallic  and  not  very  flexible,  and 
partly  because  of  something  in  his  personality. 
He  is  a  man  that  men  like.  There  is  nothing 
about  him  that  could  be  described  as  either 
charming  or  magnetic,  but  there  is  a  buoyant, 
fresh  and  bubbling  enthusiasm  about  him  that 
makes  it  hard  to  feel  antagonistic.  But  this 
likable  personality  is  not  one  that  stirs  people 
below  the  skin  when  he  makes  a  speech. 
They  sit  back  and  enjoy  it  critically. 

The  Senate  abhors  boy  orators,  but  usually 
waits  for  the  sure  influences  of  time  and  sad 
experience  to  wear  them  down.  In  Bever- 
idge's  case  it  was  forced  to  resort  to  sterner 
measures.  Beveridge  broke  into  those  waltz- 
time  speeches  too  often,  and  on  each  occasion 
the  event  was  heralded  far  and  wide  and  the 
galleries  filled  with  young  ladies  of  the  same 
type  as  attends  matinees,  reads  the  Ladies^ 
Home  Journal  J  and  goes  to  hear  the  Rev. 
Newell  Dwight  Hillis.  It  was  felt  that  some- 
thing must  be  done.  Hence  came  the  tem- 
porary obliteration  of  Beveridge  at  the  hands 
of  Pettus. 

Pettus  is  the  oldest  man  in  the  Senate, 
eighty-four  years  of  age.  He  was  an  officer  in 
the  Mexican  war  sixteen  years  before  Beveridge 
was  born.     When  Beveridge  was  born  Pettus 


140  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

was  nearly  as  old  as  Beveridge  is  now.  He  is 
as  complete  a  contrast  to  Beveridge  as  could  be 
imagined.  His  oratory  is  quaint  and  old- 
fashioned,  and  studded  with  scriptural  quota- 
tions. His  words  fall  slowly,  in  that  quaint, 
kindly,  high-pitched  drawl  which  character- 
izes so  many  of  the  older  type  of  Southern 
speakers. 

He  arose,  and  buttoning  his  long  frock  coat 
about  him  he  stuck  his  thumb  in  it  in  the  ap- 
proved oratorical  fashion.  As  he  talked  he 
somehow  suggested  all  Beveridge's  favorite 
gestures  without  doing  a  thing  so  undignified 
as  to  imitate  them.  In  his  way  of  buttoning 
the  top  button  of  his  coat,  in  his  gentle  move- 
ment of  the  chest  and  slight  oscillation  of  the 
shoulders,  he  conveyed  such  an  idea  of  ridic- 
ulous pomposity  that  the  Senate  lost  all  con- 
trol of  itself. 

Never  mentioning  Beveridge's  name,  he 
punctured  the  Indianian's  claims  to  be  what 
he  called  ''our  great  orator "  with  a  gentle 
and  poignant  ridicule.  He  pictured  Beveridge 
as  indulging  in  a  soliloquy  in  which  he 
pledged  himself  to  throw  aside  all  considera- 
tions of  common  sense  and  devote  himself  to 
building  up  a  reputation  as  an  orator.  He 
rung  the  changes  on  the  word  ''  or — a — tor," 
each   time   dividing   it   carefully   into   three 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  141 

words  and  making  each  bear  the  burden  of  a 
world  of  scorn.  He  suggested  to  Allison  and 
Hale,  the  two  wise  old  heads  of  the  Republi- 
can machine,  the  necessity  of  calling  a  caucus 
to  consider  the  question  what  should  be  done 
with  Beveridge. 

'^  I  tell  you,"  drawled  old  Pettus  in  that  de- 
licious liquid  monotone  he  brought  up  from 
Alabama,  ''  the  senator  from  Iowa  and  the 
senator  from  Maine  will  have  to  take  some 
action  in  reference  to  that  or — a — tor.  There 
is  no  doubt  about  it  in  the  world.  There 
will  surely  have  to  be  some  caucus  on  the 
matter." 

While  the  old  man  was  doing  this  dreadful 
deed,  now  and  then  stopping  to  mop  his  face 
with  an  immense  red  handkerchief  imported 
from  Selma,  all  the  rules  of  the  Senate  were 
forgotten.  Democrats  and  Republicans  alike 
were  lying  sprawled  across  their  desks,  their 
faces  contorted  in  an  agony  of  merriment. 
The  president  of  the  Senate,  gavel  in  hand, 
lay  back  in  his  chair,  not  only  not  enforcing 
but  flagrantly  breaking  all  the  rules  by  howl- 
ing like  a  hyena. 

It  did  have  an  effect.  It  suppressed  Bever- 
idge for  a  time,  and  after  that  his  Senate 
speeches  were  not  so  flowery.  He  delivered 
many  to  which  a  man  could  not  waltz  and 


142  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

which  barely  sufficed  for  a  lancers.  But  that 
was  in  1900,  and  occasionally  there  is  waltz 
music  in  a  Beveridge  speech  now. 

The  trouble  with  Beveridge  is  that  he  is 
always  intellectually  in  a  frock  coat.  He  is  a 
good  man  in  his  way,  and  within  certain  lim- 
its is  a  bad  man  to  go  up  against  in  a  debate. 
It  is  not  a  very  big  way,  however,  that  way 
of  his.  He  once  tackled  Simmons  of  North 
Carolina  and  so  wound  him  up  in  an  endless 
maze  of  contradictions  that  Simmons  was  re- 
duced to  pulp.  It  so  mortified  the  North 
Carolinian  that  he  actually  took  to  his  bed 
and  was  ill  for  a  week. 

This  gift  of  Beveridge's  consists  in  the 
harassment  of  a  cross-examination  such  as 
one  meets  in  a  criminal  court.  It  has  no 
effect  on  the  really  big  senators,  except  to  en- 
rage such  of  them  as  have  hot  tempers.  This 
is  the  history  of  the  Bailey-Beveridge  affray, 
when  Bailey's  line  of  argument  was  so  broken 
in  upon  by  Beveridge's  narrow  line  of  cross- 
examination  that  he  lost  control  of  himself. 
What  Bailey  did,  as  has  heretofore  been 
pointed  out,  was  all  wrong,  but  urgently  in- 
vited. Bailey  might  have  pleaded  the  excuse 
that  Tom  Sawyer  gave  for  feeding  the  cat  with 
Pain  Killer  :  ''  If  you  don't  like  this,  Peter, 
remember  that  you  asked  for  it." 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  143 

When  Beveridge  and  Quay  locked  horns 
over  the  Statehood  bill  in  1903  the  daily  scene 
was  an  inspiration.  Men  neglected  their  busi- 
ness to  attend  it.  Its  general  tenor  was  illus- 
trated by  this  conversation  between  two  capi- 
tol  habitues  : 

"You  ought  to  have  been  there  to-day. 
You  missed  it.  Beveridge  was  plumb  severe 
with  Quay." 

''  Did  Quay  grin  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  grinned.  And  when  Bever- 
idge was  through  he  got  up  in  that  calm, 
half-asleep  manner  of  his  and  said,  '  The  sen- 
ator's statement  is  entirely  false.'  Then  he 
sat  down.  Then  he  got  up  again  and  said,  '  I 
retract  that.  I  will  not  say  it  was  false.  I 
will  say  it  was  untrue.'  Then  he  sat  down 
again. 

"  And  Beveridge  arose  in  his  most  terrible 
manner  and  said,  '  What  part  of  it  was  un- 
true?' ^  All  of  it,' said  Quay  in  his  placid 
manner.     Then  he  grinned." 

When  Beveridge  was  out  in  the  Philippines 
gathering  material  for  his  works  on  the  road 
to  success  for  young  men,  he  was  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  opportunities  open  there. 

"  Great  heavens,"  said  he  to  Captain  David 
Stanley  of  the  transport  he  was  on,  "  what  a 
wonderful  country  for  a  young  man !     What 


144  SENATE  PORTRAITS 

limitless  opportunities !  Why  don't  young 
men  come  out  here?  With  $10,000  a  man 
can  make  a  fortume." 

He  fixed  Stanley  with  his  eye,  and  the 
captain  apologetically  murmured  that  many 
young  men  did  not  have  $10,000. 

''  Borrow  it !  Borrow  it !  "  exclaimed  Bev- 
eridge. 

"  Well,  you  see,  senator,''  said  Stanley, 
''many  a  young  man  has  not  got  $10,000 
worth  of  credit." 

Beveridge  looked  at  him  reproachfully, 
even  contemptuously.  "  Young  man,"  said 
he  severely,  ''  I  perceive  that  you  lack  moral 
fibre." 

Beveridge  does  not  lack  personal  courage. 
On  this  same  Philippine  excursion  of  his  he 
was  with  General  Lawton  in  an  engagement. 
Law  ton  and  his  men  were  on  a  ridge.  The 
Filipinos  were  on  another  ridge  and  firing 
tumultuously.  Lawton  perceived  th^t  the 
men  on  horseback  were  affording  too  good  a 
mark,  and  roared,  ''  Dismount !  " 

Ever3^body  got  down  from  his  horse  except 
Lawton  himself  and  Beveridge.  The  senator 
made  a  move  to  do  so,  and  then,  seeing  that 
Lawton  was  still  on  horseback,  he  remained 
where  he  was.  There  they  were,  the  general 
and   the  senator,  affording  the  finest  marks 


ALBERT    J.    BEVERliJGE. 
Always  intellectually  in  a  frock  coat." 


SENATE  PORTRAITS  145 

imaginable.  Presently  the  general  looked 
around  and  saw  the  senator,  serenely  facing 
the  rebel  fire.     His  eyes  flamed. 

^' Blank  blank  you  to  blank,"  he  roared, 
"  I  thought  I  told  you  to  get  down  !  " 

And  before  that  terrific  fire  of  profanity  the 
senator  from  the  august  State  of  Indiana 
quailed  as  he  had  not  done  before  the  Filipino 
bullets.  He  slid  meekly  off  his  horse  and 
stayed  off. 

Despite  all  his  idiosyncrasies  and  defects 
Beveridge  is  a  likable  and  even  a  popular 
man.  His  staginess  and  what  Dickens  de- 
scribed in  Mr.  Podsnap  as  ''  a  fatal  freshness  " 
are  his  main  drawbacks  to  a  popular  appre- 
ciation such  as,  in  many  ways,  he  really  de- 
serves. If  he  could  shake  these  off  his  really 
good  qualities  would  have  no  trouble  in  win- 
ning recognition. 


Ill 

SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 


THE  HOUSE  MACHINE 

There   are  several   machines   in   different  \ 
parts  of  the  country,  if  the  daily  newspapers     ^ 
are  to  be  relied  on  ;  but  one  of  the  strongest 
and  most  ironclad  of  the  lot  is  comparatively 
unknown   except  by  name.     Not  Tammany  \v 
Hall  itself  is  such  a  close  corporation  as  the 
House  machine  at  Washington.     Nowhere  in 
the  land  is  any  body  of  men  ruled  with  so 
despotic  a  hand  by  so  small  a  governing  body.^ 
In  Tammany  Hall  the  boss  has  a  cabinet,  but 
the  four  rulers  of  the  House  of  Representatives 
are  a  law  unto  themselves. 

There  are  just  four  of  them,  and  they  hold 
their  sway  not  by  any  of  the  forces  that  lift 
men  to  the  control  of  other  machines — not  by 
graft,  not  by  force  of  character,  not  by  patron- 
age. They  hold  it  by  virtue  of  the  official 
positions  they  occupy  in  the  House.  They 
are  the  speaker,  the  two  majority  members  of 
the  Committee  on  Rules,  and  the  chairman  of 
the  Ways  and  Means  Committee,  who  is  by 
reason  of  his  office  the  floor  leader  of  the 
majority.     In  recent  years  they  have   been, 

149 


150         ^^     SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

and  doubtless  will  be  for  some  time  to  come, 
Joseph  G.  Cannon  of  Illinois,  Charles  H. 
Grosvenor  of  Ohio,  John  Dalzell  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  Sereno  E.  Payne  of  New  York. 

The  House  machine  can  be  whittled  down 
still  finer.  It  really  resolves  itself  into  the 
speaker  and  the  two  majority  members  of  the 
Committee  on  Rules.  For  if  the  chairman  of 
the  Ways  and  Means  Committee  should  fall 
out  with  his  colleagues  they  would  run  over 
him  like  a  steam  roller.  The  same  power  by 
which  they  reduce  other  congressmen  to  obedi- 
ence would  be  equally  efficacious  with  him. 
The  only  real  power  he  has  is  by  their  con- 
sent. 

Personality  enters  into  the  matter  very  lit- 
tle. It  is  not  by  the  force  of  an  irresistible 
genius  for  leadership  that  Dalzell  and  Grosve- 
nor, for  example,  have  climbed  to  a  position 
where  they  practically  legislate  for  the 
country,  so  far  as  the  lower  House  is  con- 
cerned. They  are  able  men  as  congressmen 
go,  but  do  not  overtop  many  men  who  might 
be  mentioned  among  their  Republican  col- 
leagues. Put  any  one  of  these  in  the  place 
held  by  Dalzell  or  Grosvenor  or  Payne,  and  he 
would  straightway  become  as  towering  a 
despot  as  they.  The  proof  is  that  the  omnip- 
otent boss   of  the   House,  the   chief  of  the 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  151 

House  machine,  Speaker  Cannon,  was  utterly 
powerless  to  oppose  the  House  machine  when 
he  was  on  the  floor.  He  was  just  as  able  then 
as  now,  just  as  much  of  a  natural  leader,  but 
whenever  he  opposed  his  will  to  theirs,  as  he 
sometimes  did,  they  tossed  him  out  of  their 
way  as  easily  as  they  would  a  new  congress- 
man just  learning  his  way  about  the  streets. 

What  is  the  source  of  this  power?  How 
does  the  House  machine  establish  its  rule  ? 

The  average  newspaper  reader  is  likely  to 
attach  little  significance  to  the  name  ''  Com- 
mittee on  Rules."  He  probably  thinks  it  is 
a  committee  to  establish  or  revise  rules  of 
procedure — a  sort  of  parliamentary  committee. 

When  a  bill  is  reported  in  the  House  a 
"  rule  "  is  reported  too.  The  '*  rule  "  defines 
the  scope,  not  only  of  the  discussion,  but  if 
necessary  of  the  conditions  under  which  the 
bill  can  be  passed.  For  example,  if  the  Com- 
mittee on  Rules  chooses,  it  can  prohibit 
amendments.  It  can  have  the  bill  made  to 
suit  its  preferences,  and  then  prevent  the 
House  from  changing  it.  In  other  words  it 
can  absolutely  prescribe  the  form  of  the  legis- 
lation to  be  enacted,  for  the  power  to  amend 
is  as  much  a  part  of  the  legislative  power  as 
anything  else,  but  the  Committee  on  Rules 
can  shear  the  House  of  that  power. 


152  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

The  two  Democratic  members  of  the  com- 
mittee count  for  nothing  in  the  machine,  of 
course.  They  are  merely  informed  of  what  is 
to  be  done  after  the  speaker,  Mr.  Dalzell 
and  General  Grosvenor  have  agreed  upon 
it. 

The  Committee  on  Rules  and  the  speaker 
can  prevent  the  consideration  of  any  bill. 
Now  suppose  the  case  of  a  new  congressman, 
just  elected,  who  has  only  a  few  months  in 
which  to  *'  make  good  "  with  his  constituents 
and  secure  a  renomination.  He  has  got  to  get 
that  new  public  building  and  get  the  appro- 
priation for  deepening  the  creek.  He  knows 
perfectly  well,  even  if  he  is  the  newest  of  new 
congressmen,  that  both  these  propositions 
will  die  if  he  antagonizes  the  measure  which 
the  Committee  on  Rules  is  now  bringing 
in. 

Of  course  he  votes  for  the  measure,  what- 
ever may  be  his  convictions  on  the  subject. 
Revolt?  How  can  he  revolt?  He  is  tied 
hand  and  foot,  with  political  ruin  at  the  hands 
of  his  enraged  constituents  staring  him  in  the 
face  if  he  does  not  hasten  to  comply  with  the 
lightest  wish  of  the  House  machine. 

One  of  the  notable  figures  of  Congress  is 
James  A.  Tawney  of  Minnesota,  a  man  of 
power  and  force.     When  the  House  machine 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  15S 

brought  all  its  power  to  bear  for  the  passage  of 
the  Cuban  reciprocity  bill,  in  1902,  this  man 
was  the  leader  of  the  beet-sugar  insurgents. 
He  was  supposed  to  be  too  big  a  man  to  come 
under  the  ban  of  the  House  machine.  One 
day  after  the  fight  had  been  going  on  for  some 
time,  Tawney  went  to  the  speaker's  desk  and 
asked  what  had  become  of  a  bill  in  which  he 
was  interested.  Mr.  Henderson's  jaws  came 
to  with  a  snap ;  he  looked  straight  at  Tawney 
from  under  his  heavy  brows  and  growled  : 

"  You'll  have  to  see  the  Committee  on  Rules 
about  that." 

When  the  news  of  this  was  spread  among 
Tawney's  supporters  it  carried  panic ;  it  did 
more  to  take  the  heart  out  of  the  insurgents 
than  anything  else.  If  the  mighty  Tawney, 
the  Republican  whip  of  the  House  and  the 
friend  of  the  leaders,  could  be  thus  treated, 
what  hope  was  there  for  the  rank  and  file  ? 

In  that  fight  Tawney  snatched  victor}^  out 
of  the  jaws  of  defeat  and  routed  the  House 
machine  at  the  last  moment,  by  sheer  force  of 
his  own  indomitable  personality  and  splendid 
fighting  powers.  But  the  exception  proves 
the  rule.  For  once  that  the  House  machine 
has  been  beaten  it  has  been  successful  a  hun- 
dred times. 

Yet  Tawney's  victory  weakened  the  control 


154  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

of  the  machine,  for  in  addition  to  its  real  and 
tremendous  powers  it  had  an  asset  of  immense 
value — fear,  coupled  with  a  superstitious  be- 
lief in  the  hopelessness  of  opposition.  When 
the  House  machine  had  been  beaten  once,  this 
asset  was  depreciated.  It  was  based  mainly 
on  the  actual  fact  that  resistance  was  hopeless 
in  Reed's  day.  But  Henderson  was  a  differ- 
ent man  from  Reed,  nothing  like  so  strong ; 
and  once  his  prestige  was  damaged  by  defeat, 
his  power  waned. 

Throughout  the  last  session  of  the  Fifty- 
seventh  Congress  signs  of  revolt  multiplied. 
What  might  have  happened  had  Henderson 
remained  speaker  can  only  be  surmised ;  but 
the  advent  of  Cannon  settled  all  that,  and  to- 
day the  power  of  the  House  machine  is  more 
strongly  intrenched  than  ever,  to  all  appear- 
ances. 

The  final  seat  of  power  in  the  machine  is 
with  the  speaker.  A  revolt  of  the  Committee 
on  Rules  against  him  would  supply  an  excit- 
ing fight,  but  the  result  would  not  be  long  in 
doubt.  Of  which  no  stronger  proof  can  be 
found  than  that  the  fight  of  House  against 
Senate  in  the  early  days  of  the  Fifty-eighth 
Congress  was  a  complete  reversal  of  the  old 
policy  of  Payne,  Grosvenor  and  Dalzell. 
When  they  were  co-leaders  with  Henderson 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  165 

they  never  forgot  the  Senate,  and  the  House 
was  a  mere  appendage  of  the  other  body. 

They  had  to  fall  in  line  with  the  new 
speaker's  policy.  What  Payne  and  Dalzell 
thought  of  it  cannot  be  said,  but  it  was  highly 
distasteful  to  Grosvenor.  The  old  man  seemed 
not  only  worried,  but  lost.  He  felt  that  he 
had  fallen  on  evil  days,  and  that  all  the 
habits  of  mind  of  years  were  being  torn  up  by 
an  iconoclastic  hand.  But  he  had  to  follow 
his  leader. 

This  then  is  the  explanation  of  why  the 
lower  House  is  a  compact  body  which  can  be 
moved  this  way  and  that  at  a  touch,  while 
the  Senate,  despite  its  coterie  of  bosses,  is 
often  uncontrollable.  It  explains  equally  the 
past  talk  about  the  degeneracy  of  the  House 
and  the  present  talk  about  the  House's  re- 
gaining its  old  position.  For  the  great  body 
of  representatives  are  puppets,  moved  by  the 
irresistible  power  of  the  machine ;  and  when 
the  chief  of  that  machine,  the  speaker,  is  will- 
ing to  let  his  branch  of  Congress  be  degraded 
to  a  mere  tail  to  the  Senate,  the  House  may 
grumble,  but  must  obey.  When  the  speaker, 
as  is  the  case  with  Cannon,  has  higher  ambi- 
tions for  the  House  and  has  the  willingness  to 
fight,  the  representatives  must  follow  him 
again.     With  Joseph  G.  Cannon  as  the  chief 


156  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

of  the  machine,  the  real  legislator  of  the  pop- 
ular branch,  there  are  brighter  days  in  store 
for  the  House,  and  it  seems  coming  to  its  own 
again. 


I 
1 


II 

THE  HOUSE  TEIUMVIEATE 

"  He  grins  like  a  Cheshire  cat,  and  but  for 
that  he  might  have  been  speaker  of  the  House 
of  Representatives." 

In  this  fashion  a  veteran  Washingtonian 
summarized  for  the  benefit  of  a  newcomer  the 
career  of  Sereno  E.  Payne,  and  accounted  for 
his  failure  to  attain  the  summit  of  his  ambi- 
tion. Mr.  Payne  has  become  resigned  to  it 
how,  and  knows  he  will  never  be  speaker,  but 
he  still  grins. 

His  two  associates  in  the  triumvirate  which 
— subject  to  the  speaker — runs  the  House  of 
Representatives,  have  no  such  handicap,  and 
John  Dalzell  still  cherishes  in  his  heart  of 
hearts  the  hope  that  he  may  some  day  sit  in 
the  speaker's  chair.  The  rank  and  file  of  the 
House  smile  at  this  vision  of  DalzelFs  and 
term  it  a  hallucination.  They  did  that  when 
Speaker  Henderson  stepped  down  from  the 
throne,  and  it  was  patent  to  every  man  but 
one  in  Washington,  in  the  House  and  out  of 
it,  that  Dalzell  had  not  the  ghost  of  a  chance. 

157 


168  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

It  was  not  patent  to  Dalzell.  He  really 
thought  he  was  in  the  running,  and  he  actu- 
ally continued  to  think  so  after  Mr.  Cannon 
had  driven  everybody  else  out  of  the  field. 

Dalzell  does  not  grin.  He  does  not  even 
smile.     He  is  a  profoundly  serious  man. 

General  Grosvenor,  the  third  member  of  the 
triumvirate,  does  not  smile  either.  Neither  is 
he  a  profoundly  serious  man.  He  has  a 
scorching  and  lightning-like  wit  and  the 
temper  of  a  buzz-saw.  When  he  speaks  in 
the  House  all  the  seats  are  occupied,  and  no- 
body goes  to  sleep.  A  Grosvenor  speech  is  an 
event.  His  private  conversation  is  studded 
with  epigrams,  to  say  nothing  of  swear  words. 
He  is  a  very  human  person,  is  Grosvenor. 
But  he  will  never  be  speaker,  either. 

All  three  have  gone  as  high  as  they  are 
likely  to  in  the  House  of  Representatives. 
They  are  the  triple-headed  boss  system  of  the 
lower  House.  It  is  an  honor,  and  many  a 
new  member,  rusticating  in  unnoticed  ob- 
scurity and  trying  hard  to  ^'  make  good  "  with 
his  constituents  by  getting  through  that  bill 
to  deepen  the  creek,  looks  on  with  envious 
eyes,  and  thinks  he  would  be  perfectly  con- 
tented if  he  could  get  as  high  as  that,  and 
would  never  ask  to  be  speaker. 

Yet  they  are  not  popular  with  their  col- 


JOHN    DALZELL.,        , 
"  The  brains  of  the  House  triumvirate." 


*      <  »      »  0 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  159 

leagues.  Two  of  them  are  decidedly  un- 
popular.    Why  ? 

*'  I  have  been  a  member  of  this  House  nine 
years,  and  a  Republican  member  at  that,  and 
this  is  the  first  time  John  Dalzell  ever  spoke 
to  me,"  said  a  beet-sugar  Republican,  whose 
vote  Dalzell  had  asked  for  in  the  Cuban  reci- 
procity fight  in  1902.  ''  What  is  the  matter 
with  Sereno  Payne  ?  '^  said  an  observer  in  the 
gallery  during  the  same  big  fight.  "  He  has 
just  invited  a  man  in  the  back  part  of  the 
House  to  come  up  where  he  can  hear  better. 
Has  the  millennium  come  ?  " 

The  House  triumvirate  has  ridden  rough 
shod  over  opposition,  has  settled  the  fate  of 
aspiring  congressmen  by  killing  the  bills  their 
communities  demanded,  has  filled  more  than 
one  ambitious  politician  with  despair  and 
hatred :  but  some  men  could  do  these  things 
and  still  be  popular. 

The  characteristic  of  DalzelPs  to  which  the 
beet-sugar  Republican  referred  is  not  caused 
by  any  pride  of  position  or  any  overfed  vanity 
of  mind.  Dalzell  is  shy.  It  seems  a  strange 
thing  to  say  of  a  man  in  his  position,  but  his 
friends  assert  that  it  is  an  unconquerable  con- 
stitutional defect  of  his.  Besides,  he  is  a  man 
who  cannot  warm  up  to  save  his  life.  He 
would  like  to,  he  tries  to,  but  it  is  not  in  him. 


160  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

Coldness,  reserve,  shyness  were  born  in  him : 
magnetism,  tact,  the  art  of  being  winning  were 
left  out  of  him. 

He  is  a  very  considerable  man.  It  is  a 
stock  saying  that  the  greatest  two  States  in  the 
Union,  Pennsylvania  and  New  York,  are  rep- 
resented by  the  poorest  outfit  of  congressmen, 
and  that  the  whole  delegation  from  both  these 
States,  leaving  out  Dalzell,  Payne  and  one  or 
two  others,  would  kick  the  beam  weighed 
against  what  one  barren,  hilly,  scantily  popu- 
lated district  in  Maine  can  send  to  Washing- 
ton. Above  that  mass  of  mediocrity  or 
worse  Dalzell  looms. 

Protection,  of  course,  is  his  hobby,  and  he 
has  not  only  enthusiasm  for  the  cause  of  his 
town  and  section,  but  brains  wherewith  to 
battle  for  it.  Any  Pennsylvania  congressman 
could  give  him  points  on  how  to  look  out  for 
one's  constituents.  Dalzell  is  not  much  of  a 
"  local  "  man.  But  he  is  a  national  man,  and 
Pittsburg  overlooks  his  defects  for  the  dis- 
tinction there  is  in  it. 

He  is  a  little  man,  with  an  unimpressive 
figure  and  a  small  head.  His  eyes  are  brilliant 
and  his  face  would  be  handsome  if  his  head 
were  not  so  small.  He  is  slightly  deaf,  and 
when  in  charge  of  a  bill  his  hand  is  constantly 
at  his  ear  and  his  body  bent  forward.     His 


I 


BEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  161 

head  he  always  carries  on  one  side  like  a 
bird,  probably  because  of  some  muscular  in- 
firmity. 

As  a  speaker  he  is  full  of  facts  and  logic, 
but  his  voice  is  unattractive  and  his  style  dry. 
He  is  not  an  impressive  figure,  and  visitors  in 
the  gallery  generally  get  restless  when  he  is 
on  the  floor,  until  they  are  told  that  this  man 
is  one  of  the  ablest  in  the  House  and  one  of 
the  three  men  who  rule  it.  He  is  more  than 
that ;  he  is,  according  to  the  general  verdict, 
the  brains  of  the  House  triumvirate. 

Sereno  Payne  is  the  most  benevolent  look- 
ing man  that  has  ever  been  seen  on  the  banks 
of  the  Potomac.  White  hair,  baby  blue  eyes 
and  a  constant,  kindly  smile  endear  him  at  a 
glance  to  the  casual  stranger.  Hearts  open 
instantly  to  Sereno  Payne.  But  after  that 
glance,  disillusion  comes. 

For  that  kindly  smile  is  something  that 
Sereno  cannot  help.  It  stays  with  him  al- 
ways. When  he  is  sternly  refusing  the  request 
which  some  new  congressman,  emboldened  by 
that  ingratiating  smile,  has  made,  the  smile  is 
still  there.  He  refuses  in  heavy,  savage  ac- 
cents ;  he  does  not  soften  the  thud  by  any 
regrets  or  kind  words  ;  his  refusal  comes  with 
all  the  gentleness  and  moderation  of  a  falling 
pile-driver  ;   but  the  smile  is  there  as  he  does 


162  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

it,  and  he  is  still  smiling  as  he  turns  brusquely 
away.  He  would  stop  smiling  if  he  could, 
but  to  save  his  life  he  cannot. 

This  it  is  which  infuriates  the  stricken  con- 
gressman. He  could  put  up  with  Dalzell's 
cold,  formal  refusal ;  he  could  stand  Gros- 
venor's  rough  denial,  flavored  with  tobasco 
and  wit ;  but  the  most  gentle  disposition  is 
ruffled  and  the  meekest  heart  enraged  by  the 
combination  of  cold,  hard,  iron  despotism  and 
that  benevolent  smile.  Sereno  knows  it,  and 
would  stop  smiling  if  he  could  ;  but  he  can't. 

Mr.  Payne  is  built  tremendously  amidships 
and  fills  the  aisle  when  he  arises  to  speak. 
He  is  not  an  eloquent  talker,  and  there  is 
something  in  his  voice  that  reminds  one  of 
the  rising  of  the  tide.  He  is  strong  on  tariff" 
matters,  as  becomes  the  chairman  of  the  Ways 
and  Means  Committee.  Wit  does  not  garnish 
his  retorts,  but  he  has  a  sledge-hammer  fashion 
of  dealing  with  Democratic  interrupters. 

Grosvenor  is  the  most  nearly  popular  of  the 
three.  There  are  many  men  in  the  House 
who  like  him  well,  and  yet  there  are  so  many 
who  dislike  him  that,  striking  a  balance,  he 
cannot  really  be  called  popular.  His  biting 
tongue  and  ferocious  wit  are  perhaps  responsi- 
ble. In  private  he  is  as  biting  and  ferocious 
as  in  public — more  so,  if  anything- — and  his 


SEKENO    E.    PAYNE. 
"  That  kindly  smile  is  something  that  Sereno  cannot  help. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  163 

epigrams  are  helped  out  by  locutions  which 
the  amenities  of  the  House  prohibit. 

There  is  nothing  deceptive  about  his  ap- 
pearance ;  he  differs  from  Payne.  A  sardonic 
twinkle  in  his  blue  eye  contrasts  vastly  with 
that  misleading  benevolence  in  Payne's.  But 
with  his  sturdy  form  and  his  abundance  of 
white  hair  and  beard,  he  is  an  attractive  man 
to  look  at.  Vandiver,  of  Missouri,  once 
summed  up  his  appearance  comprehensively 
in  a  sentence,  being  impelled  thereto  by  an 
exigency  of  debate. 

Vandiver  had  been  referring  to  "  the  gen- 
tleman from  Ohio,"  when  some  mischievous 
person  demanded  that  Vandiver  specify  which 
gentleman  from  Ohio  was  the  subject  of  his 
excoriation. 

"  Being  prohibited  by  the  rules,"  replied 
Vandiver,  ''  from  mentioning  the  name  of  the 
gentleman  from  Ohio,  and  yet  desiring  to 
answer  the  question,  I  will  designate  him  as 
the  gentleman  from  Ohio  who  looks  like  Santa 
Glaus  and  talks  like  Satan." 

He  is  a  striking  and  imposing  figure  as  he 
stands  in  the  aisle  delivering  broadsides  of 
slashing  wit  at  his  opponents.  Never  does 
he  arise  without  attracting  Democratic  inter- 
ruptions as  a  light  attracts  flies.  When  they 
come  he  is  in  his  element.     Terrific  retorts, 


l«i  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

fired  off  like  bombs,  annihilate  those  who  a$» 
sail  him. 

There  is  only  one  man  in  the  House  with 
whom  Grosvenor  measures  swords  in  vain. 
Not  even  his  bosom  friend,  Hepburn,  of  Iowa, 
another  gladiator  of  debate,  has  ever  come  off 
the  victor  in  a  wordy  war  with  Grosvenor, 
But  when  the  melancholy  voice  of  De  Ar- 
mond,  of  Missouri,  is  heard,  then  it  is  that 
Grosvenor  becomes  aware  that  trouble  is  im^ 
pending. 

He  first  became  aware  of  this  one  day 
when  he  interrupted  De  Armond  with  one  of 
those  terrific  sarcasms  which  usually  over- 
whelm his  victims.  The  moment  the  words 
were  out  of  his  mouth  the  measured,  precise 
voice  of  the  Missourian  arose  in  a  torrent  of 
sarcasm  so  much  more  ferocious  than  the 
worst  that  Grosvenor  had  ever  done  that  it 
left  *'  Old  Tabasco  "  astounded  and  breathless. 
It  was  directed  at  Grosvenor^s  assumption  that 
he  was  the  personal  spokesman  of  President 
McKinley.  When  De  Armond  got  through 
with  him  there  were  tears  in  Grosvenor's  eyes. 
No  man  has  ever  seen  him  so  shaken  and 
broken  before  or  since. 


CHARLES    H.    GROSVENOil.'  '>]..:] 

"He  has  a  scorching  and  lightning-like  wit  and  the  temper  of  a 
buzz-saw." 


Ill 

THE  AEISTOCEACY  OF  THE  HOUSE 

Occasionally  it  grinds  the  very  soul  of  a 
member  of  the  House  to  know  that  by  long 
effort  he  has  won  his  way  to  a  place  in  the 
House  aristocracy  and  that  there  is  no  way  of 
making  his  people  at  home  see  the  significance 
of  the  great  event.  They  do  not  even  know 
that  there  is  a  House  aristocracy.  He  has 
pei-haps,  after  ten  years'  striving,  won  his  way 
to  a  place  on  the  Appropriations  Committee — 
the  lowest  seat  at  that  stately  board,  but  still 
a  seat — and  to  his  people  at  home  it  means  no 
more  than  if  he  had  been  appointed  to  the 
Committee  on  Census. 

Of  course  his  colleagues  know  the  signifi- 
cance of  it,  and  show  it  in  their  demeanor. 
His  hand  is  wrung  off  by  congratulatory  con- 
gressmen, and  his  breast  swells  as  it  did  at 
home  when  he  won  his  first  election  to  Con- 
gress. Envy  pays  its  tribute,  too.  He  knows 
as  well  as  if  he  could  hear  it  that  that  fellow 
Higginbottom,  in  his  own  delegation,  is  say- 
ing to  sympathizing  friends  that  he  can't  for 
the  life  of  him  see  what  the  speaker  sees  in 

165 


166  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

that  man  Brown  to  put  him  on  Appropria- 
tions. He  is  secretly  aware,  too,  that  McGin- 
nis  is  telling  everybody  that  he,  McGinnis, 
could  have  had  that  place  if  he  had  wanted 
it,  but  he  told  the  speaker  he  would  rather 
wait  for  a  chance  at  Ways  and  Means. 

Candid  friends  tell  him  that  O'Rourke  is 
"  knocking  "  him  and  saying  that  he  is  un- 
fit for  the  job,  and  other  candid  friends  tell  him 
that  it's  a  big  thing  and  they  hope  he  will 
measure  up  to  it.  All  these  currents  of  congrat- 
ulation, the  tributes  of  friendship  and  of  en- 
mity, assure  him  that  he  has  at  last  won  his 
place  into  the  House  aristocracy  and  inflate  his 
head.  Then  he  goes  home  and  can't  explain 
it ;  he  can't  make  those  stupid  constituents  see 
it.  And  it  is  borne  in  upon  him  bitterly  that 
if  he  had  won  a  chairmanship — some  insignif- 
icant chairmanship  not  worth  holding — he 
would  have  met  understanding  and  congratu- 
lation ;  and  he  cannot  explain  that  he  could 
have  had  any  one  of  a  dozen  chairmanships 
and  passed  them  all  over  to  win  this  place  of 
real  dignity  and  power. 

It  is  an  aristocracy,  or  rather  oligarchy, 
well  worth  belonging  to,  too.  For  it  is  an 
aristocracy  of  brains.  Not  everybody  who 
gets  into  the  House  aristocracy  is  a  man  of 
braius,  but  everybody  who  g^ts  into  it  is  sup- 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  167 

posed  to  be  such  a  man  and  has  won  his  place 
for  that  reason. 

There  are  sixty-two  committees  in  the 
House,  and  most  of  them  are  mere  names. 
Many  of  these  committees  never  hold  a  ses- 
sion ;  never  did  hold  one  and  never  will  hold 
one,  to  the  end  of  time.  Other  committees 
there  are  that  are  active  and  useful,  but  not 
great.  There  are  a  mere  handful  of  commit- 
tees that  compose  the  House  aristocracy.  To 
win  his  way  into  one  of  these  a  man  must 
labor  long  and  hard  to  establish  his  standing 
among  his  colleagues,  and  to  make  the  powers 
that  be  hold  him  a  man  worthy  of  high  place. 

This  is  true  of  majority  and  minority  alike. 
A  member  of  the  minority  may  not  hope  for 
chairmanships ;  but  the  reward  of  a  place  in 
the  House  aristocracy  he  may  hope  to  win. 
When  he  enters  one  of  the  '^  great  commit- 
tees," he  takes  his  place  at  the  bottom,  and 
slowly  works  up  towards  the  top  as  other  men 
drop  out  through  death,  promotion  or  defeat 
for  reelection  to  Congress.  If  he  stands  at 
the  head  of  the  minority  when  the  longed-for 
turn  of  the  tide  comes  and  his  party  wins  the 
House,  he  will  probably  be  chairman.  But 
the  chairmanship  is  only  the  crowning  honor  ; 
to  be  on  the  committee  at  all,  even  in  the 
lowest  seat,  13  almost  honor  enough, 


168  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

The  chairman  of  one  of  ^'  the  great  commit- 
tees/^ as  they  are  called,  is  a  man  of  tremen- 
dous power  and  high  standing.  Sometimes 
he  exercises  the  power  of  political  life  or 
death  over  his  colleagues.  One  day  in  1904 
the  Pennsylvania  delegation  met  to  devise 
means  for  pushing  the  measure  for  the  im- 
provement of  the  Delaware  River.  Philadel- 
phia was  all  wrought  up  over  that,  and  some 
of  these  men  felt  that  their  political  lives  de- 
pended upon  it.  They  were  busy  talking 
about  various  ways  of  forcing  Pennsylvania's 
demands  upon  the  House,  when  a  blunt 
practical  man  named  Butler  broke  in,  say- 
ing : 

''  What  does  Mr.  Burton  say?  There  is  no 
use  wasting  time  talking  about  anything  else. 
What  Mr.  Burton  says  will  be  law  for  the 
House  of  Representatives." 

Mr.  Burton,  of  Ohio,  is  chairman  of  the 
Rivers  atid  Hsirbors  Committee.  A  wet  blan- 
ket fell  on  the  delegation  at  this  burst  of 
cold,  hard  common  sense,  and  the  belligerent 
talk  melted  and  vanished  on  the  spot.  Mr. 
Sibley,  indeed,  did  combat  the  idea  that  Bur- 
ton's will  was  law,  but  he  admitted  that  it 
could  only  be  overridden  by  getting  the 
House  to  defeat  the  entire  River  and  Harbor 
bill ;  which  will  be  done  in  some  future  Con- 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  169 

gress  when  the  skies  fall  and  Pennsylvania 
congressmen  can  catch  larks. 

At  the  head  of  the  House  aristocracy  stands 
the  Rules  Committee,  the  mighty  House  ma- 
chine, whose  will  is  law  and  whose  veto  is 
final  on  anything  and  everything.  It  is  made 
up  of  Speaker  Cannon,  John  Dalzell,  General 
Grosvenor,  and  two  Democrats,  John  Sharp 
Williams  and  David  A.  De  Armond.  The 
placing  of  De  Armond  on  this  committee  was 
one  of  the  greatest  tributes  the  caustic  Mis- 
sourian  ever  received,  and  caused  much  heart- 
burning among  the  friends  of  Oscar  W.  Un- 
derwood. If  De  Armond's  head  was  at  all 
swelled  by  the  great  promotion,  it  was  doubt- 
less promptly  reduced  when  he  went  home  to 
Missouri  and  found  the  significance  of  the 
event  unanimously  unappreciated. 

Next  comes  the  Ways  and  Means  Committee 
— so  great  a  committee  that  the  chairmanship 
of  it  carries,  ex  officio,  the  title  of  rnajority 
leader  of  the  House  and  a  seat  among  the 
rulers  of  the  House  machine.  That  chairman 
to-day  is  Sereno  E.  Payne  of  New  York,  and 
next  to  him  ranks  Dalzell.  Second  man  on 
Rules  and  second  man  on  Ways  and  Means, 
iio  man  familiar  with  Washington  ways 
would  ask  further  information  as  to  Dalzell's 
standing  among  his  fellows  in  the  aristocracy 


lYO  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

of  brains.     Grosvenor  comes  third,  as  he  does 
on  Rules. 

The  roll  of  this  committee  includes  names 
that,  to  congressmen,  carry  their  own  descrip- 
tion— such  names  as  McCall  of  Massachusetts, 
Hill  of  Connecticut,  Boutell  of  Illinois,  and 
others,  on  the  Republican  side ;  Williams  of 
Mississippi,  Clark  of  Missouri,  Cockran  of 
New  York,  and  others,  on  the  Democratic 
side.  The  roll  is  a  roll  of  the  men  of  highest 
standing  in  the  House. 

Mayor  McClellan  of  New  York,  during  his 
service  in  the  House,  was  long  honored  with 
a  place  on  this  committee,  and  it  was  his  elec- 
tion to  the  mayoralty  that  made  a  place  for 
Cockran.  To  Cockran  was  paid  the  unprece- 
dented honor  of  having  a  place  on  the  Ways 
and  Means  Committee  left  vacant  until  he 
could  be  elected  to  Congress  to  take  it.  It 
was  known  that  he  would  be  elected,  and 
Speaker  Cannon  neglected  to  fill  the  vacancy 
until  he  arrived,  more  than  a  month  later. 

Secretary  Metcalf  was  promoted  from  this 
committee  to  the  head  of  the  Department  of 
Commerce  and  Labor,  succeeding  Mr.  Cortel- 
you.  His  promotion  left  a  vacancy  which 
was  filled  by  the  promotion  of  Needham  of 
California. 

Hardly  Jess  eminent  among  the  3,ristocr?it8 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  lYl 

of  the  House  are  the  members  of  "  Appropria- 
tions/^ the  committee  of  which  for  so  many 
years  Speaker  Cannon  was  the  head,  and 
which  he  left  only  to  take  the  higher  honor 
that  is  now  his.  He  was  succeeded  in  the 
chairmanship  by  James  A.  Hemenway  of 
Indiana,  who  has  just  been  promoted  to  the 
Senate  as  the  successor  of  Vice-President  Fair- 
banks, and  Hemenway  in  turn  was  succeeded 
by  Tawney. 

The  Military  Affairs  and  Naval  Affairs  rank 
among  the  great  committees,  for  a  place  on 
which  the  struggle  is  keen.  Foreign  Affairs 
is  not  a  great  committee,  whereas  the  Foreign 
Relations  Committee  in  the  Senate  is  one  of 
the  greatest  in  that  body.  The  reason  is 
simple — the  foreign  affairs  that  come  before 
the  Senate  include  treaties  and  other  im- 
portant matters  that  do  not  come  before  the 
House.  On  occasion  the  House  Committee 
on  Foreign  Affairs  rises  to  sudden  importance, 
and  for  this  reason  a  strong  and  able  man — 
Robert  R.  Hitt  of  Illinois — is  placed  at  its 
head ;  but  in  ordinary  times  it  troubles  the 
deliberations  of  the  House  very  little. 

In  the  class  of  important,  active  and  useful 
committees  which  nevertheless  do  not  belong 
to  the  aristocracy  of  the  House  come  such 
bodies  as  Colonel  Hepburn's  Coramittee  on 


172  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

Interstate  and  Foreign  Commerce  and  General 
Grosvenor's  Committee  on  Merchant  Marine 
and  Fisheries.  Each  is  a  committee  which, 
like  the  Foreign  Affairs  Committee,  frequently 
rises  to  great  importance,  and  hence  a  strong 
man  is  placed  at  the  head  of  each.  But  they 
do  not  rank  among  the  great  committees, 
membership  in  which  is  itself  a  badge  of 
honor. 

From  these  to  the  committees  with  im- 
posing names  which  never  meet  is  a  terrific 
drop.  There  is  no  sadder  awakening  than 
that  which  comes  to  the  new  member  who 
has  fixed  his  eyes  on  some  high-sounding 
committee  like  ''  Pacific  Railroads"  or  ''Coin- 
age, Weights  and  Measures,"  and  pulled  all 
kinds  of  wires  to  get  there,  and  finally  won 
the  place,  and  has  then  been  aroused  to  the 
fact  that  he  has  nothing  to  do  and  nowhere 
to  go,  and  that  the  place  he  has  won  has 
doomed  him  to  perpetual  unimportance. 

It  is  a  sad,  sad  story,  but  it  has  to  do  with 
the  proletariat,  not  the  aristocracy,  of  the 
House. 


IV 

UNCLE  JOE 

*'  Uncle  Joe  "  Cannon  has  been  having  his 
picture  painted,  an  operation  which  all  good 
speakers  must  undergo.  He  has  submitted 
to  it  with  stoical  resignation,  knowing  that  it 
is  part  of  the  job  he  holds ;  and  he  has  un- 
complainingly suffered  himself  to  be  •  led  to 
various  photograph  galleries  and  ''  taken  "  in 
statesmanlike  poses. 

The  various  artists  have  done  what  they 
conceive  to  be  their  duty  in  such  cases ;  they 
have  undertaken  to  present  the  speaker  in  a 
favorable  light  to  posterity.  It  is  for  pos- 
terity's sake  that  each  new  speaker  undergoes 
this  course  of  artistic  sprouts.  He  has  to  con- 
tribute an  oil  painting  of  himself  to  the  gallery 
of  speakers  and  to  leave  his  photograph  for 
future  historians. 

And  these  photographers  have  performed 
their  labors  conscientiously.  They  have  en- 
deavored to  give  him  a  stern  and  statesman- 
like look,  as  of  one  whose  mind  is  engrossed 
with  matters  of  deep  public  import;  they 
have  wiped  the  half-humorous  glint  out  of  his 

173 


174  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

eye,  and  they  have  toned  down  into  lines  of 
severity  the  curious  crease  at  his  mouth  which 
gives  him  the  appearance  of  always  smiling. 
They  have  done  their  duty  as  they  see  it,  and 
in  years  to  come  a  commonplace  face  will 
look  from  the  pages  of  history,  instead  of  the 
most  striking  and  unforgettable  face  in  all  the 
Fifty-ninth  Congress.  It  will  be  the  face  of 
an  imaginary  Speaker  Cannon,  the  Speaker 
Cannon  who  ought  to  have  been  ;  not  the  face 
of ''  Uncle  Joe." 

It  has  been  the  duty  of  everybody  connected 
with  Mr.  Cannon's  official  duties  to  metamor- 
phose him  from  '^  Uncle  Joe  "  into  the  speaker, 
and  they  have  worked  indefatigably  at  it ; 
this  picture-making  is  merely  an  example  of 
it ;  but  the  work  has  been  a  failure,  for  the 
unconquerable  Uncle-Joeness  of  him  rises  and 
protrudes  as  soon  as  their  labors  are  done,  as 
a  pompadour  head  of  hair  rises  obstinately 
the  moment  you  take  your  hand  off  it. 

Two  days  before  the  meeting  of  that  Con- 
gress which  was  to  make  Cannon  speaker,  an 
old  friend  of  his  met  him  in  his  old  committee 
room.  Appropriations,  and  said,  "  Joe,  I  had 
it  in  mind  to  drop  in  on  you  and  say  good-bye 
to  Joe  Cannon." 

''  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  the  speaker- 
to-be. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  175 

"  Well,  I  have  known  Joe  Cannon  many 
years,  and  I  thought  I  might  never  see  him 
again,  but  would  hereafter  have  to  deal  en- 
tirely with  the  speaker." 

The  speaker  took  his  constant  companion 
from  Havana  out  of  his  mouth,  pointed  it  to- 
wards the  Hall  of  Representatives,  and  said  : 

"  In  there  I'll  be  the  speaker ;  away  from 
there  you'll  find  that  I'll  be  Joe  Cannon." 

The  suggestion  had  been  prompted  by  a  bit- 
ter memory  of  how  ''  Dave  "  Henderson  ceased 
to  be  "  Dave "  and  became  an  inflated  and 
swollen  person  under  the  dignity  of  office. 
Cannon  is  of  a  different  make.  In  fact,  he 
could  not  cease  to  be  ''  Uncle  Joe  "  if  he  tried. 

Of  course,  his  personality  is  less  obtrusively 
in  evidence  than  it  was  when  he  was  on  the 
floor.  He  cannot  make  speeches  now ;  neither 
can  he  preside  a  great  deal  of  the  time.  The 
popular  notion  of  the  speakership  is  that  that 
officer  is  continually  in  the  chair,  presiding 
over  the  work  of  Congress.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  when  the  big  bills  are  being  debated  the 
speaker  is  not  in  the  chair  more  than  half  an 
hour  a  day. 

The  bill  is  taken  up  in  Committee  of  the 
Whole,  and  the  speaker  turns  it  over  to  some 
trusted  chairman,  a  man  whose  parliamentary 
ability  is  so  generally  recognized  that  he  can 


176  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

be  trusted,  should  any  emergency  call  for  it, 
to  hand  down  one  of  those  decisions  which 
will  be  consulted  as  precedents  half  a  century 
hence  ;  some  pilot  who  can  guide  the  bill  past 
any  rock  or  shoal. 

There  are  only  four  of  these  chairmen  in  the 
House  at  present,  and  they  preside  alternately 
over  the  debates  on  the  great  bills.  They  are 
Olmsted  of  Pennsylvania,  Sherman  of  New 
York,  Boutell  of  Illinois  and  Burton  of  Ohio. 
The  speaker  takes  the  chair  again  when  the 
bill  is  put  upon  its  passage,  but  as  the  amend- 
ments have  been  voted  upon  in  committee  it 
is  seldom  that  there  is  any  real  fight  left  to 
make. 

So  the  speaker  is  seen  but  little  in  the 
House ;  his  work  is  not  that  of  an  active 
participant ;  it  is  done  behind  the  scenes.  He 
is  the  head  of  the  House,  the  general  director 
of  legislation,  the  man  who  determines  in  ad- 
vance what  shall  be  done  and  has  charge  of 
the  way  to  do  it.  And  hence  it  is  that  while 
Cannon  is  ''  Uncle  Joe  "  as  much  as  ever,  the 
fighting,  rough-and-ready  "  Uncle  Joe "  of 
parliamentary  catch-as-catch-can  is  a  fading 
tradition,  growing  dimmer  all  the  while. 

The  "  Uncle  Joe  "  who  for  so  many  years 
was  chairman  of  the  Appropriations  Com- 
mittee, the  official  watchdog  of  the  Treasury, 


JOSEPH   G.   CANNOIsf.,' .-,  ? , ,  •       :       ' .. 
The  most  striking  and  positive  character  in  all  the  House.' 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  1Y7 

was  a  sight  worth  seeing  when  a  debate  was 
on.  His  delivery  was  slashing,  sledge-ham- 
mery,  full  of  fire  and  fury.  When  he  got 
thoroughly  interested  in  his  subject  the  fact 
was  made  known  in  an  infallible  way.  On 
such  occasions  he  would  take  off  his  coat  and 
throw  it  on  his  desk.  Provoked  by  opposition 
and  getting  warmed  to  his  subject,  his  waist- 
coat would  follow  his  coat ;  and  if  the  occasion 
was  of  sufficient  moment  to  warrant  it,  off 
would  come  collar  and  necktie. 

Thus  stripped  for  action,  "  Uncle  Joe  '^ 
would  move  up  and  down  the  aisles  in  long 
strides,  waving  his  fists  in  the  air  and  pouring 
forth  a  continual  flood  of  sarcasm,  invective 
and  denunciation  at  a  rate  that  taxed  the 
stenographers.  He  would  roll  up  his  shirt- 
sleeves to  give  him  greater  freedom,  and  his 
bony  fists  would  fly  around  in  the  heat  of  his 
wrath  so  that  the  ducking  heads  of  congress- 
men, dodging  to  avoid  a  punch  in  the  eye, 
marked  his  dashes  up  and  down  the  aisles. 

If  some  unlucky  opponent  interrupted, 
Cannon  would  stride  up  and  down  the  aisle, 
jerking  his  shirt-sleeved  arms  about  in  a  fury 
of  impatience.  As  the  last  word  left  the 
questioner's  mouth  a  gigantic  roar  of  ''  Oh, 
Mr.  Chairman,"  would  burst  from  Cannon  as 
if  his  pent-up  feelings  had  torn  that  torrent 


178  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

of  sound  from  his  bosom,  and  behind  it  would 
come  such  a  flood  of  sarcasm,  couched  in 
homely  language  and  mingled  with  soundest 
sense,  that  the  interrupter  wilted  under  a 
laugh  that  shook  the  house. 

And  when  it  was  over  Cannon  would  go 
back  to  his  place  and  put  on  his  collar  and 
necktie  and  waist-coat  and  coat,  and  retire  to 
the  Appropriations  room. 

These  speeches  were  seldom  partisan  ones ; 
he  was  engrossed  in  his  work  of  watching  ap- 
propriations and  defeating  extravagance.  He 
never  hesitated  to  beard  the  House  leaders, 
the  august  triumvirate  of  the  machine,  nor 
to  defy  the  speaker  himself.  Breaks  and 
bulls  were  frequent  in  these  speeches,  for  he 
always  spoke  extemporaneously,  and  his  ideas 
boiled  over  with  such  rapidity  that  he  could 
not  always  choose  his  words.  As  for  example 
when  he  was  opposing  the  proposition  to  have 
the  national  government  pay  the  losses  of  the 
Buffalo  Pan-American  Exposition,  and  was 
exasperated  by  the  certainty  that  the  House 
would  override  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  roared,  shaking  his  fists  high  in 
the  air  at  Representative  Alexander  of  Buf- 
falo, the  sponsor  of  the  measure  ;  "  make  the 
government  a  partner  in  your  expositions. 
Then  the  next  step  will  be  to  make  the  United 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  179 

States  pay  the  losses  of  the  county  fairs  ;  and 
after  that,  I  suppose,  we'll  become  the  backers 
of  a  Wild  Bill  West  Show  ! " 

The  howl  that  greeted  this  only  annoyed 
him ;  he  was  too  excited  and  too  dead  in 
earnest  to  see  anything  wrong  with  his  sen- 
tence, and  '^Wild  Bill  West  Show"  it  re- 
mained. 

Now  all  this  is  changed.  He  is  the  picture  \ 
of  dignity  as  he  stands  in  the  speaker's  place, 
and  it  is  quaint,  natural,  unforced  dignity ; 
nothing  put  on  about  it.  Yet  he  is  the  same  ^ 
old  ''  Uncle  Joe,"  and  he  had  not  been  speaker 
ten  minutes  before  the  House  was  in  a  roar 
because  he  told  the  new  congressmen  to  "  step 
up  to  the  area  and  be  sworn."  And  not  long 
thereafter,  when  the  Postal  Appropriation  bill 
was  being  passed,  and  some  one  asked  what 
was  before  the  House,  this  unconventional 
speaker  bluntly  replied,  ''  The  subsidy  for  the 
Southern  Railway."  The  brutal  word  "  sub- 
sidy "  struck  the  House  dumb  for  a  moment, 
for  the  members  had  been  calling  it  all  kinds 
of  fine  names,  and  then  they  all  joined  in  a 
shout  of  laughter. 

He  is  as  much  of  a  czar  as  ever  was  Hen-  \ 
derson  or  Reed,  but  his  despotism  is  not  re- 
sented as  theirs  was.     Such  acts  as  letting  the 
Democrats   apportion    their    own   committee 


180  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

places  make  a  tempered  tyranny.  Besides, 
even  when  he  is  most  tyrannical,  there  is  a 
sunny  charm  about  his  despotism.  Once  the 
Democrats  happened  to  have  a  momentary 
majority  in  the  House,  due  to  the  desire  of 
the  Republican  majority  for  food.  While  the 
Republicans  were  unsuspiciously  dining  amid 
the  comforts  of  home  the  Democrats  brought 
up  a  bill  and  carried  it  to  a  vote.  Hurry  calls 
were  sent  out  for  the  Republican  laggards, 
while  the  speaker  protracted  the  voting  by 
every  means  in  his  power.  The  Democrats 
pressed  home  their  advantage,  and  at  last,  in 
desperation,  the  speaker  had  the  roll  called  a 
third  time.  This  was  a  sheer  violation  of  all 
the  rules  of  the  House.  For  a  moment  things 
looked  stormy. 

^'  Why  does  the  chair  call  the  roll  a  third 
time?"  demanded  one  of  the  Democratic 
leaders,  indignantly,  while  a  score  of  enraged 
Democrats  leaped  to  their  feet  and  thronged 
the  aisles. 

"  The  chair  will  inform  the  gentleman," 
replied  ''  Uncle  Joe."  ''  The  chair  is  hoping 
that  a  few  more  Republicans  will  come  in." 

The  threatened  squall  evaporated  in  a  great 
storm  of  laughter.  The  Democrats  sat  down, 
chuckling ;  and  the  Republicans  came  in. 

Henderson  would  have  done  the  same  thing; 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  181 

but  Henderson's  assumption  of  authority 
would  have  left  heart-burnings  after  it. 
When  that  session  closed,  the  Democrats  joined 
in  presenting  a  loving-cup  to  the  speaker,  and 
deputed  their  leader,  John  Sharp  Williams,  to 
make  a  speech  about  him. 

Cannon  had  never  bowed  the  knee  to  the 
House  machine,  and  he  had  never  surrendered 
to  the  Senate.  He  thinks  the  House  the 
greatest  legislative  body  on  earth,  and  he 
grieved  over  its  continual  sinking,  under  the 
Henderson  regime,  to  be  a  mere  appendage  to 
the  Senate.  "  The  deterioration  of  the  House  '^ 
was  a  stock  subject  for  newspaper  and  maga- 
zine moralizing  ;  and  it  sank  lower  and  lower 
every  year.  Cannon  could  not  prevent  it ;  he 
was  not  of  the  House  machine. 

But  at  last  one  day,  in  the  closing  hours  of 
a  legislative  session,  a  new  piece  of  senatorial 
aggression  unlocked  his  tongue.  It  was  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning  when  ''  Uncle  Joe," 
mounting  on  his  desk  and  stripped  to  the 
shirt,  delivered  such  a  speech  about  the  rights 
of  the  House  and  such  a  defiance  of  the 
Senate  that  a  House  half-asleep  and  dog-tired 
woke  to  frenzied  thunders  of  applause. 

He  knew  he  was  to  be  speaker  then,  and  the 
speech  was  a  gage  of  battle.  The  Senate  re- 
garded it  but  little.     But  Congress  had  hardly 


182  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

met  when  the  Solons  at  the  other  end  of  the 
capitol  found  that  a  man  had  become  speaker 
who  was  determined  that  the  House  should 
regain  its  ancient  prestige. 

Again  and  again  the  Senate  went  forth  to 
battle,  and  every  time  it  was  defeated.  At 
every  point  the  House  won  what  it  contended 
for.  The  House  was  a  solid  army  under  a  be- 
loved and  trusted  leader ;  and  that  to-day  it 
comes  so  near  to  standing  coequal  with  the 
Senate,  taking  the  place  the  founders  of  the 
government  meant  it  to  hold,  and  that  this 
change  was  wrought  within  four  months, 
is  due  to  the  iron  strength  and  unflinching 
pluck  of  Speaker  Cannon. 

The  House  loves  and  trusts  him ;  he  is  the 
most  popular  man  in  all  its  membership.  The 
Democrats  are  little  less  fond  of  him  than  the 
Republicans.  He  has  not  followed  the  Hen- 
derson policy  of  treating  the  minority  like  cap- 
tives in  a  Roman  triumph ;  he  has  treated 
them  fairly  and  even  generously. 

And  the  House  admires  him  no  less  than  it 
loves  and  trusts  him.  It  will  follow  him  to 
battle  anywhere  and  for  any  cause,  as  it  rose 
from  its  degradation  and  followed  him  solidly 
to  battle  with  the  Senate.  It  knows  him  as  an 
uncommon  man ;  a  man  of  high  ideals  and 
firm   convictions   and   definite   purposes.     It 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  183 

knows  him  as  a  true  man,  one  who  will  not  go 
back  on  his  word  nor  weaken  in  the  face  of 
odds. 

He  is  the  most  striking  and  positive  charac- 
ter in  all  its  membership.  With  all  his  oddi- 
ties and  quaintn esses  he  is  what  they  call  "  a 
big  man."  Their  admiration  for  him  and 
confidence  in  him  is  not  second  to  that  which 
they  gave  to  Reed  ;  and  he  has  what  Reed 
never  had,  their  affections. 


WILLIAMS,  A  LEADER  WHO  LEADS 

To  have  transformed  a  bucking,  stampeding 
mob  into  a  disciplined  and  soldierly  army — 
to  have  transformed  that  which  for  six  years 
was  the  Democratic  minority  in  the  House 
into  that  which  is  the  Democratic  minority 
to-day — is  a  feat  of  political  generalship  which 
must  excite  interest  in  the  man  who  performed 
it.  To  have  done  that  in  the  space  of  five 
days  suggests  the  return  of  the  age  of  miracles. 
That  the  man  who  did  it  was  a  man  who  never 
before  had  been  suspected  of  talents  for  leader- 
ship, and  whose  selection  for  the  captaincy 
was  the  signal  for  head-shaking  among  the 
wiseacres,  makes  the  event  stand  out  boldly 
from  all  party  reorganizations  of  the  past. 
Hence  is  it  that  John  Sharp  Williams  of  Mis- 
sissippi is  one  of  the  most  interesting  men  in 
the  country  to-day. 

The  condition  of  the  Democratic  minority 
in  the  House  from  the  time  of  Charles  F. 
Crisp's  death  and  the  defeat  of  Bryan  is  a 
matter  of  national  notoriety.  Chaos  is  its 
best  word  of  description.     A  ploughing,  snort- 

184 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  185 

ing  herd  of  Texas  steers,  suddenly  released 
from  all  restraint,  is  its  nearest  analogue. 
Bailey's  nominal  leadership  was  flouted  and 
shattered  by  the  men  he  attempted  to  lead. 
Under  him  it  was  every  man  for  himself. 
Richardson  was  recognized  as  leader,  unlike 
Bailey,  but  under  him  the  minority  was  a 
nerveless,  wrangling,  disorganized,  undisci- 
plined mob,  which  could  not  by  any  possibil- 
ity be  united  for  anything  except  the  River 
and  Harbor  bill. 

This  condition  grew  worse  and  worse  as  the 
years  went  on,  until  the  country  had  lost  all 
respect  for  the  minority  and  it  had  none  for 
itself.  On  the  Democratic  side  there  was  no 
longer  a  party ;  there  was  only  a  horde. 
Even  the  Republicans,  who  at  first  had  re- 
joiced at  the  plight  of  their  enemies,  began  to 
wish  for  a  respectable  and  worthy  body  of  op- 
position. There  were  perils  for  the  majority 
in  having  no  opposition  worth  the  name. 

When  Richardson  retired  from  the  leader- 
ship the  only  names  mentioned  for  his  place 
were  those  of  Williams,  De  Armond  and 
Champ  Clark.  There  was  little  interest  in 
the  fight  on  the  part  of  the  country,  for  it  was 
assumed  that  whoever  was  elected,  the  Demo- 
cratic party  was  past  redemption.  Williams 
was  chosen.     He  had  never  had  a  chance  to 


186  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  ^ 

do  any  leading,  and  no  one  knew  whether  he 
could  do  it  or  not.  He  was  known  as  a  bril- 
liant and  magnetic  speaker,  and  that  was  all. 
''  Simply  an  orator,"  was  the  general  com- 
ment, and  it  was  predicted  freely  that  he 
would  be  a  second  Eichardson. 

The  only  hope  for  the  party  seemed  to  be 
in  the  simultaneous  appearance  of  Gorman  as 
the  head  of  the  party  in  the  Senate.  There 
was  such  faith  in  the  senator's  executive  abil- 
ity and  power  of  leadership  as  amounted 
almost  to  fetich  worship.  He  was  to  be  the 
party  Moses,  and  there  was  nothing  he  could 
not  do. 

It  took  Williams  five  days  to  turn  the  mob 
into  the  army  it  now  is — an  army  at  present 
better  drilled  and  disciplined  than  the  Re- 
publican majority.  His  policies  may  be  dis- 
sented from,  but  of  the  fact  that  the  Demo- 
crats will  follow  him  for  those  policies  with 
the  coolness  and  indomitableness  of  veterans, 
and  that  they  cannot  be  shaken  or  rattled  for 
a  moment,  there  is  nowhere  any  doubt.  Nor 
is  there  any  doubt  that  they  are  pressing  those 
policies  home  with  a  sleepless  vigilance  and  a 
tactical  skill  worthy  of  the  best  Republican 
days  of  Reed. 

The  five  days  spoken  of  were  the  days  of 
the  only  fight  Williams  had  to  wage  within 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  187 

his  party.  The  Cuban  reciprocity  problem 
confronted  him,  an  issue  on  which  his  party 
had  been  as  hopelessly  irreconcilable  as  a 
crowd  of  street  arabs  disputing  over  a  crap 
game.  Williams  had  already  determined  that 
tariff"  revision  should  be  the  Democratic 
watchword  as  far  as  he  could  make  it,  and  he 
determined  that  the  party  must  support  the 
bill. 

His  determination  evoked  unspeakable  dis- 
may among  the  Democratic  senators.  His 
position  was  not  known  until  his  fight  was 
begun  and  under  way.  There  were  hard 
words,  but  Williams,  gently  and  affably  and 
treading  on  no  one's  corns,  conducted  his 
gum  shoe  campaign  until,  for  the  first  time 
in  years,  the  Democratic  minority  was  pre- 
senting a  united  front. 

After  that  he  had  no  more  fights  to  wage. 
The  Democrats  only  needed  the  hand  of  a  true 
leader  to  guide  them.  His  Panama  policy 
differed  from  that  of  many  senators,  but  the 
House  minority  swung  into  line  for  it  like 
regulars.  They  were  all  split  up  about  it 
when  they  came  to  Washington,  and  half  of 
them  were  loaded  to  the  muzzle  with  speeches 
which  were  never  delivered. 

On  the  tariff*  his  belief  is  that  the  Repub- 
licans have  injured  themselves,  especially  in 


188  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

the  West,  by  their  open  and  cynical  abandon- 
ment of  the  policies  of  Blaine  and  McKinley. 
He  is  determined  to  move  the  Democratic 
army  up  into  that  abandoned  citadel.  He 
deprecates  free  trade  talk  ;  there  is  no  hori- 
zontal reduction  in  his  programme  ;  moderate 
tariff  revision,  the  abandoned  reciprocity 
treaties,  and  the  flagranc}^  of  the  Dingley 
rates,  are  the  burden  of  his  song. 

These  principles  are  hammered  home  at 
every  opportunity,  and  he  makes  opportunities. 
In  one  form  or  another  bills  and  resolutions  are 
continually  being  introduced.  Now  it  is  a 
resolution  calling  on  the  president  to  get  the 
High  Joint  Commission  together,  now  a  bill 
for  a  drawback  for  the  benefit  of  sufferers  by 
the  Baltimore  fire.  At  every  point  the  Re- 
publicans have  to  meet  him,  and  the  resulting 
campaign  material  is  sown  broadcast  in  the 
West. 

And  all  this  time  Gorman,  the  much- 
heralded  Moses,  was  failing  dismall}^  to  unite 
the  Democratic  senators  on  either  Cuban  reci- 
procity, the  tariff,  the  Panama  issue  or  any- 
thing else.  True,  he  had  a  hard  situation  to 
meet ;  but  so  did  Williams.  When  they  as- 
sumed their  respective  leaderships  the  House 
minority  was  more  of  a  mob  than  the  Senate 
minority. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  189 

Before  Congress  met  in  1903  there  was  a  lot 
of  talk  about  raising  the  race  issue,  about  bills 
to  repeal  the  war  amendments,  and  about 
throwing  down  the  gauntlet  to  the  North. 
Williams  suppressed  it.  He  is  a  Southerner 
and  sympathizes  with  his  section,  but  he  does 
not  see  any  good  in  irritating  the  North.  He 
took  that  stand  when  Gorman  was  making 
his  campaign  on  the  race  issue  and  disfran- 
chisement in  Maryland. 

Williams's  methods  are  an  interesting  study. 
He  is  persuasive,  not  domineering.  He  has  a 
winning  manner,  and  he  seems  to  be  seeking 
help  and  light  from  you  at  the  very  time  he 
is  bringing  you  around  to  his  views.  Con- 
gressmen who  go  into  his  little  room  in  the 
library  wing  determined  to  let  Williams  un- 
derstand that  they  will  put  up  with  no  non- 
sense, go  forth  pleased  and  flattered  and  in- 
clined to  help  him  out.  On  the  rare  occasions 
where  it  is  necessary  for  him  to  show  his  au- 
thority the  iron  hand  comes  out  of  the  velvet 
glove,  and  the  insurgent  knows  what  has  hap- 
pened without  having  any  one  tell  him. 

He  is  not  an  impressive  man  to  look  at ;  in 
fact,  he  is  homely  in  face  and  careless  in  dress. 
A  tangled  mass  of  hair  grows  down  to  a  point 
not  far  from  his  eyes.  A  straggling  mustache 
covers  a  mouth  of  generous  size  and  irregular 


190  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

outline.  His  manners  are  as  easy  and  unpre- 
tentious as  an  old  shoe. 

He  would  not  be  a  rich  man  in  New  York, 
but  he  is  a  rich  man  for  Mississippi.  He  is  a 
lawyer  and  a  planter,  with  a  country  fortune. 
But  he  does  not  look  as  if  he  had  a  dollar, 
and  all  the  advice  of  his  friends  cannot  make 
him  spruce  up. 

His  autobiography  in  the  "  Congressional 
Directory  '^  says  that  ''  he  received  a  fair  edu- 
cation "  at  private  schools,  the  Kentucky  Mil- 
itary Institute,  the  University  of  the  South, 
the  University  of  Virginia,  and  the  University 
of  Heidelberg.  Whether  the  words  "  fair  edu- 
cation "  were  written  in  boast  or  modesty  may 
be  a  question  to  strangers,  but  no  man  who 
knows  ''  John  Sharp,"  as  they  call  him  in 
Mississippi,  and  is  aware  of  his  total  lack  of 
"  front,"  has  any  doubt  that  he  meant  what 
he  said. 

His  election  to  the  leadership  proceeded  in 
the  first  place  from  the  fact  that  he  was  con- 
ceded to  be  the  best  speaker  on  the  Democratic 
side.  He  has  a  remarkable  voice.  It  is  some- 
what nasal  and  rather  incisive,  but  his  com- 
mand of  it  is  as  perfect  as  that  of  a  musician 
over  a  musical  instrument.  He  plays  upon  it 
like  a  violin  ;  it  sweeps  from  high  to  low, 
from  loud  to  soft,  in  perfect  tune  with  the 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  191 

modulations  of  his  theme.  He  need  hardly 
speak  above  a  whisper  to  attract  the  close  and 
strained  attention  of  the  whole  House  in  a 
moment. 

His  command  of  sarcasm  is,  it  is  generally- 
agreed,  unequaled  in  the  House  except  by  De 
Armond ;  but  De  Armond's  sarcasm  is  of  the 
bitter  sort,  while  Williams  exposes  the  weak 
points  of  the  enemy's  armor  in  such  a  way 
that  the  enemy  laughs,  though  ruefully,  while 
he  writhes. 

He  is  a  story-teller  of  wide  cloakroom  fame, 
and  he  likes  to  write  verses,  though  he  will 
not  admit  their  authorship,  as  he  has  a  fear 
of  the  reputation  that  dogs  the  rhyming 
statesman.  Occasionally  the  temptation  over- 
powers him,  and  he  reads  some  stinging  bit 
of  versification  in  the  House.  Most  famous 
of  these  occasions  was  his  production  in  honor 
of  Rear  Admiral  Crowninshield  at  the  time  of 
the  Schley  investigation.  He  read  it  with 
such  unction  that  Democrats  and  Republicans 
alike  shouted  and  pounded  their  desks  in  un- 
controllable and  hysterical  mirth.  It  was  a 
parody  on  Little  Peterkin's  inquiries  about 
the  "  famous  victory "  at  Blenheim,  and 
began : 


192  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

^^Oh,  who  is  Crowninshield,  papa, 
That  he  should  have  the  best 
Of  everything  there  is  to  have, 
And  shine  o'er  all  the  rest  ?  '^ 

The  father  explains  that  "  Great  Crownin- 
shield has  done  a  lot  of  glorious  things,"  but 
Little  Peterkin  presses  his  query  : 

^^  What  were  the  virtuous  deeds  he  did. 
That  he  should  simply  name 
The  things  he  wants  for  his  rewards 
And  straight  annex  the  same?'^ 

Being  assured  that  Crowninshield  was  a 
great  naval  commander,  Peterkin  persists : 

'^But  when  and  where  did  Crowninshield 
Stand  on  the  bridge  and  show 
His  ^  bullies '  how  to  train  their  guns 
Against  the  firing  foe  ?  '^ 

At  last  the  badgered  parent  replies : 

*'  Go  out  and  chase  the  put,  my  son, 
And  bother  me  no  more ; 
Great  Crowninshield' s  the  greatest  tar 
That  ever  stayed  ashore." 

Though  a  Southerner,  Williams  is  almost 
exempt  from  the  prejudices  of  his  section. 
One  of  his  most  striking  speeches  was  that  in 
which  he  defended  General  Sherman  from  the 


JOHN    SHARP   WILLIAMS. 
'  His  manners  are  as  easy  and  unpretentious  as  an  old  shoe. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  193 

charge  of  violating  the  laws  of  war  in  his 
march  to  the  sea.  It  was  a  remarkable  ad- 
dress, and  was  listened  to  with  breathless  at- 
tention by  a  crowded  House.  One  of  its 
sentences  was  this : 

''As  an  American  citizen,  as  the  son  of  a 
*  rebel '  soldier,  as  a  man  who  is  intensely 
American,  although  he  is  intensely  Southern, 
I  want  the  world  to  know  that  when  civilized 
men  were  fighting  civilized  men  upon  the 
American  continent — one  of  them  in  behalf 
of  the  cause  of  the  preservation  of  the  Union 
as  he  understood  it,  and  the  other  in  behalf 
of  the  cause  of  local  independence  as  he  un- 
derstood it — the  watchword  was  chivalry  and 
fair  fight." 

In  1904  there  was  some  sporadic  talk  of 
Williams  for  the  presidency.  He  viewed  it 
with  gentle  and  humorous  tolerance  and  some 
weariness.  A  newspaper  man  asked  him 
earnestly  what  there  was  in  the  talk. 

''  My  boy,"  said  Mr.  Williams,  impressively, 
"  my  boom  is  making  tremendous  strides. 
My  private  secretary  is  unreservedly  for  me, 
and  I  have  hopes  of  securing  the  support  of 
Charley  Edwards,  the  clerk  of  the  minority 


VI 

THE  EEBELLIONS  OF  TAWNEY 

From  a  congressional  standpoint  the  biggest 
event  of  the  first  fortnight  of  the  Fifty-ninth 
Congress,  in  December,  1905,  was  the  an- 
nouncement that  James  A.  Tawney  of  Minne- 
sota was  at  the  head  of  a  new  revolt.  It  was 
well  known  aforetime  that  Tawney  was  the 
incorrigible,  untamable  wild  Indian  of  the 
Republican  reservation,  but  for  a  few  days  the 
leaders  of  the  House  in  the  Fifty-ninth  Con- 
gress had  an  idea  that  they  had  suppressed 
Tawney  by  promoting  him  to  the  chairman- 
ship of  Appropriations,  the  best  committee  in 
the  House  after  Ways  and  Means — indeed  the 
best  committee  anyway,  except  when  a  big 
tariff  bill  is  under  consideration. 

It  was  a  weird  mistake,  based  on  an  utterly 
insufficient  appreciation  of  the  extent  to 
which  James  A.  Tawney  does  his  own  think- 
ing. He  is  not  an  insurgent  for  the  love  of 
it ;  he  is  an  insurgent  because  he  will  think 
for  himself,  and  on  occasion  the  path  of 
thinking  for  one's  self  leads  past  the  machine 
line  of  march. 

If  you  abruptly  ask  any  Washington 
194 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  195 

looker-on  who  are  the  men  of  real  brains  on 
the  Republican  side  of  the  House  he  will 
mention  Hepburn,  Tawney,  McGall,  Burton 
and  Littlefield  in  a  breath,  and  then  hesitate 
for  the  next  name.  The  curious  thing  about 
it  is  that  all  of  them  except  Hepburn  are 
chronic  insurgents,  and  even  Hepburn  has 
been  known  to  revolt. 

There  is  a  difference,  however.  Littlefield 
is  a  born  insurgent,  who  tries  not  to  be  one 
and  does  not  succeed.  McCall  is  of  the  class 
of  George  Frisbie  Hoar.  Burton  cares  not  a 
continental  for  insurrection.  He  is  engrossed 
in  the  particular  affairs  to  which  he  has  de- 
voted his  Congressional  attention.  If  the 
House  machine  gets  in  the  way  of  them 
Burton  uprises  and  fights.  Otherwise  he 
does  not.  He  simply  treads  his  own  road, 
and  House  machines  and  House  kickers  are 
of  no  interest  to  him. 

Tawney,  on  the  other  hand,  has  no  antip- 
athy to  machines.  He  likes  them.  He  is 
the  Republican  whip  of  the  House.  He  does 
his  best  to  be  a  loyal  Republican.  So  far  has 
he  carried  this  that  Mr.  Cannon,  who  much 
prefers  him  to  the  portly  and  innocuous 
Payne,  has  had  it  in  his  mind  to  devolve  upon 
him  much  of  the  leadership  which  that  som- 
nolent statesman  has  exercised. 


196  SEEN  m  THE  HOUSE 

But  Tawney  is  the  victim  of  an  utter  in- 
capacity for  supporting  anything  he  does  not 
believe  in.  He  is  not  a  mugwump ;  he  is  a 
bitter  partisan.  Unlike  Burton,  he  does  not 
concern  himself  with  the  matters  relating  to 
his  own  department ;  he  is  actively  and  com- 
batively interested  in  everything  that  takes 
place  anywhere  in  the  United  States.  Unlike 
Littlefield,  he  does  not  try  against  an  inborn 
insurgency  to  be  good  ;  he  does  as  he  pleases. 
There  is  nothing  of  McCall  and  Hoar  about 
him ;  he  is  a  roaring  Republican.  He  simply 
cannot  avoid  doing  as  he  thinks  right  on 
everything  that  comes  up.  Place  he  is  glad 
to  get,  and  has  got ;  but  no  promotion  can 
budge  him  an  inch  from  his  love  of  fight  and 
his  determination  to  do  as  he  pleases.  Hence, 
within  a  few  days  after  Speaker  Cannon  has 
promoted  him  to  the  glory  of  the  Appropria- 
tions chairmanship,  Tawney  appears  in  the 
Republican  caucus  at  the  head  of  sixty-five 
bolters  on  the  Statehood  proposition,  and  serves 
notice  that  he  has  got  the  other  side  buffaloed. 

That  is  another  of  Tawney's  characteristics. 
He  does  not  enter  on  losing  fights  ;  he  enters 
on  winning  ones,  and  he  is  the  only  man  who 
has  ever  driven  the  House  machine  to  in- 
glorious rout  on  anything  it  really  had  its 
mighty  mind  set  on.     He  is  what  is  technic- 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  19Y 

ally  known  as  a  ^'  scrapper."  No  one  could 
doubt  it,  looking  on  that  fierce  fighting  pro- 
file, with  those  flashing  black  eyes  and  that 
dark  skin  which  flushes  as  the  fight  goes  on. 

Tawney  saw  the  light  in  Gettysburg,  Penn. 
His  father  was  a  blacksmith,  with  the  usual 
blacksmith  notions  on  the  subject  of  race 
suicide.  Hence  it  came  about  that  when 
Tawney  had  learned  the  blacksmith  trade,  he 
looked  about  and  saw  other  little  Tawneys  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  He  perceived  that 
if  he  was  to  do  anything  with  the  blacksmith 
business  he  must  leave  Gettysburg  to  the  other 
little  Tawneys,  go  west,  and  forge  up  with  the 
country. 

Hence  the  irruption  of  young  Jim  Tawney, 
blacksmith,  in  Winona.  That  town  is  located 
in  the  right  lower  jaw  of  Minnesota.  There 
are  in  it  many  people  who  have  lived  in 
Minnesota  since  the  Indians  quit.  It  is  one 
of  the  older  portions  of  the  State,  one  of  the 
portions  which  are  dedicated  to  the  old 
families.  These  old  families  would  be  looked 
on  in  Boston  as  parvenus,  but  every  State  has 
its  own  definition  for  the  term. 

Young  Jim  Tawney,  blacksmith,  started  at 
his  trade.  Then  he  undertook  to  become  a 
master  mechanic,  and  he  became  one.  After 
that  he  studied  law  at  his  forge.    The  old 


198  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

families  thought  this  hustling  and  handsome 
young  blacksmith  with  the  fighting  face  ought 
to  be  encouraged,  and  they  encouraged  him. 
Hence  he  quit  the  forge  and  practiced  law. 

Then  Lawyer  Tawney  was  elected  to  the 
State  Senate.  He  served  two  terms  in  a  con- 
stant turmoil ;  for  he  would  not  vote  for  any- 
thing he  did  not  think  right,  and  when  he  did 
not  consider  anything  right  he  mixed  war 
medicine,  raised  the  long  howl,  and  quit  the 
reservation.  Then  they  nominated  him  for 
Congress. 

That  was  going  a  little  too  far.  The  old 
families  of  the  lower  right  jaw  of  Minnesota 
resented  the  idea  that  Jim  Tawney,  black- 
smith, interloper,  stranger,  butter-in,  should  go 
so  far,  so  high  and  so  fast.  Men  who  had  ex- 
tended to  him  the  helping  hand  in  his  days 
of  poverty  turned  in  to  beat  him.  It  was  one 
of  the  hottest  campaigns  ever  known  in  that 
lower  jaw. 

The  convention  was  held  in  Waseca,  with 
the  accent  on  the  second  syllable.  Tawney's 
only  daughter  was  born  that  day — he  has  a 
host  of  little  sons,  all  strong-beaked  and 
flashing-eyed,  like  himself— and  he  named 
her  Waseca.  If  there  is  anything  in  omens, 
Tawney  was  justified,  for  he  was  elected  with 
a  whooping  majority. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  199 

He  got  into  Congress  and  straightway 
started  on  his  old  course.  They  tried  to 
tame  him.  They  usually  tame  fresh  new 
congressmen  by  refusing  them  recognition. 
Tawney  was  not  suppressed  that  way.  He 
put  up  with  his  lack  of  recognition  until  he 
had  made  himself  so  troublesome  that  they 
had  to  give  it  to  him. 

The  mighty  and  omnipotent  House  machine 
had  no  terrors  for  Tawney.  When  they  con- 
centrated their  terrific  power  on  him  he  went 
out  and  fought  them.  When  even  the  presi- 
dent of  the  United  States,  meaning  Theodore 
Roosevelt,  undertook  to  drag  Tawney  into  the 
right  path,  Tawney  simply  hurled  disrespect- 
ful defiance  at  the  White  House  and  stayed 
off  the  reservation. 

Meanwhile  the  oldest  families  of  Winona 
were  making  trouble  for  Tawney.  Year  after 
year  he  beat  them.  Finally  came  the  year 
1902,  when  Minnesota  did  away  w^ith  nomi- 
nating conventions  and  made  her  nominations 
directly  from  the  people,  as  she  does  yet.  The 
foes  of  Tawney  said  that  here  was  their  chance. 
Tawney  had  controlled  the  conventions.  Now 
they  would  go  ahead  and  beat  him  at  the 
primaries. 

Tawney  carried  the  primaries  by  the  most 
tremendous  majority  that  any  one  got  that 


200  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

year,  though  they  raised  the  cry  against  him 
that  he  was  an  enemy  of  the  president.  He 
is  not  an  enemy  of  the  president.  He  sup- 
ports Mr.  Roosevelt,  but  when  Mr.  Roosevelt 
gets  in  the  way  Tawney  lowers  his  horns  just 
as  he  does  for  anybody  else. 

In  1902  Tawney  did  not  think  Cuban  reci- 
procity right.  He  organized  the  opposition. 
In  those  days  everybody  laughed  at  the  idea 
of  ever  beating  the  House  machine  under  any 
circumstances,  and  in  this  case  the  president 
was  with  the  Henderson-Payne-Grosvenor- 
Dalzell  machine. 

It  would  do  some  assorted  constituents — 
carefully  assorted  so  that  they  did  not  come 
from  one  spot  in  the  country — much  good 
to  come  here  some  time  when  they  are  com- 
plaining because  their  congressmen  are  not 
great  statesmen  and  are  not  getting  enough 
for  the  district.  They  should  stay  here  long 
enough  to  see  the  mighty  power  of  the  House 
machine  as  it  crushes  and  treads  all  indi- 
viduality out  of  the  helpless  congressman. 
Tammany  Hall  is  a  baby  to  it.  After  watch- 
ing the  reduction  of  the  House  to  putty  the 
assorted  constituents  would  repair  to  their 
various  homes  with  a  better  feeling  towards 
their  representatives.     They  would  have  some 


JAMES    A.    TAWNEY. 

The    incorrigible,    untamable    wild    Indian    of    the    Eepubliean 
reservation." 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  201 

idea  of  how  all  but  impossible  it  is  for  the 
strongest  man  to  stand  up  against  the  irresist- 
ible and  tremendous  power  of  the  speaker 
and  the  Committee  on  Rules. 

Tawney,  by  sheer  force  of  his  fighting  per- 
sonality, got  enough  insurgents  in  line  to  fight 
this  great  machine  for  months  and  to  bring  it 
to  the  verge  of  defeat  before  the  White  House 
and  the  House  machine  together,  by  all  the 
arts  of  bullying  and  patronage,  could  get 
them  away  from  him.  Then,  as  usual,  the 
insurgents  began  to  weaken.  They  fell  away 
from  Tawney  in  droves.  George  B.  McClel- 
lan,  now  Mayor  of  New  York,  stood  up  and 
taunted  them. 

^'  You  know  of  the  soldier,"  he  said,  '^  who, 
when  Napoleon  asked  what  had  become  of 
the  Old  Guard,  stepped  forward  and  saluting 
respectfully,  replied,  '  I,  sire,  am  the  Old 
Guard.'  On  the  day  this  bill  comes  to  vote 
and  the  speaker  derisively  demands,  '  Where 
now  are  the  insurgents  ? '  the  gentleman  from 
Minnesota  will  step  forward  and  say,  '  I,  Mr. 
Speaker,  am  the  insurgents.'  " 

On  the  day  before  the  bill  came  to  vote  the 
machine  was  triumphant  and  McClellan's  pre- 
diction on  the  verge  of  vindication.  They 
had  won  away  all  but  half  a  dozen  of  his  fol- 


202  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

lowers,  and  the  chances  were  that  those  half 
dozen  would  disappear  when  the  vote  came  to 
be  taken. 

In  those  twenty-four  hours  Tawney  won 
them  all  back  with  his  bare  hands.  He  had 
no  patronage  to  give,  no  threats  of  his  would 
be  enforceable,  and  all  the  insurgents  knew 
they  were  taking  their  political  lives  in  their 
hands.  Such  is  the  force  of  that  fighting  per- 
sonality that  in  defiance  of  probability,  in  de- 
fiance of  everything  that  had  hitherto  been 
reckoned  as  possibility,  he  got  them  all  back. 
When  the  test  vote  came,  thirty-one  men 
arose  from  the  Republican  side,  and,  headed 
by  Samuel  W.  Smith  of  Michigan,  marched 
down  the  aisle  to  join  the  Democrats,  amid 
the  wildest  cheering  that  had  been  heard 
in  the  Fifty-seventh  Congress.  They  put 
through  their  amendment  taking  off*  the  dif- 
ferential on  refined  sugar,  and  the  bill  was 
killed  so  far  as  the  Fifty-seventh  Congress 
was  concerned. 

The  effect  of  Tawney's  wonderful  victory 
was  such  as  to  threaten  the  House  machine 
with  utter  destruction.  It  was  not  until  the 
retirement  of  Speaker  Henderson  and  the 
election  of  Speaker  Cannon  that  the  old  au- 
tocracy was  safe. 

Early  in  1905  Tawney  started  out  to  make 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  203 

a  crusade  against  the  House  machine  on  the 
subject  of  tariff  revision.  He  was  on  the 
Ways  and  Means  Committee.  At  first  the 
speaker  regarded  him  with  tolerant  amuse- 
ment, and  then  was  brought  up  standing  with 
a  jerk  that  shook  all  the  complacency  out  of 
him.  This  happened  by  reason  of  the  dis- 
covery that  Tawney  had  started  in  to  make  a 
canvass  of  votes  and  that  he  was  winning 
away  some  of  the  speaker^s  strongest  sup- 
porters. When  Sereno  Payne  himself  began 
to  wobble,  the  speaker  fell  into  a  panic. 

So  he  took  Tawney  off  Ways  and  Means 
when  he  came  to  make  up  the  committees  and 
put  in  his  place  a  violent  stand-patter  named 
McCleary.  But  for  that  it  is  highly  possible 
that  Tawney  might  have  got  some  sort  of  a 
tariff  revision  bill  out  of  the  committee. 

The  speaker  loves  a  good  fighter,  however, 
and  is  fond  of  Tawney  anyhow ;  so  he  pro- 
moted the  man  from  Winona  to  be  chairman 
of  Appropriations,  the  greatest  committee  in 
the  House  on  ordinary  occasions,  and  taking 
place  second  to  Ways  and  Means  only  in  years 
when  tariff  bills  have  the  floor. 

"  Placated ;  the  insurgent  in  harness,"  was 
the  universal  comment.  Not  a  bit  of  it.  The 
Republicans  called  a  caucus  to  decide  on  their 
policy   in   regard  to  Statehood.      When   the 


204  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

caucus  convened  it  learned  with  horror  that 
Tawney  did  not  think  the  Statehood  bill  right 
and  had  not  let  the  grass  grow  under  his  feet. 
He  was  off  the  reservation  and  had  already 
collected  sixty-five  Republican  votes.  He 
was  in  a  position  to  beat  the  House  machine 
again  and  make  hash  of  its  Statehood  policy. 
When  the  leaders  had  digested  this  they  de- 
cided that  they  would  not  call  the  meeting  a 
caucus,  but  a  "  conference,"  which  destroys 
its  binding  quality.  Uncle  Joe  thought  it 
was  binding,  but  Tawney  didn't,  so  the 
speaker  was  helpless. 

Hereafter  efforts  to  make  Tawney  subside 
by  giving  him  high  honors  will  be  at  a  dis- 
count. There  is  nothing  on  earth  that  can 
shut  him  up  or  take  away  one  inch  of  his  ca- 
pacity for  trouble-making.  He  is  the  same 
unsuppressible  fighter,  the  same  yesterday, 
to-day,  and  until  the  oldest  families  in 
Winona  can  get  some  one  here  who  stands 
more  distinctly  for  the  simple  life. 


VII 

THE  STAMPEDES  OF  WILLIAM  ALDEN  SMITH 

Two  months  before  the  Republicans  unani- 
mously nominated  President  Roosevelt  to  suc- 
ceed himself  one  of  the  strangest  attacks  of 
hysteria  on  the  political  records  swept  over 
the  House  of  Representatives.  With  frantic 
shouts  and  wild  cheers  it  launched  a  presi- 
dential boom  for  Speaker  Cannon. 

This  almost  forgotten  episode,  which  made 
a  sensation  at  the  time,  came  as  a  climax  to  a 
savage  debate  on  the  postal  scandal.  On  the 
eve  of  a  campaign  which  was  not  only  presi- 
dential but  congressional,  a  report  on  As- 
sistant Postmaster-General  Bristow's  investi- 
gation had  been  made  in  which  most  of  the 
leading  men  in  Congress  were  mentioned  as 
engaged  in  dealing  with  the  Post-Office  De- 
partment. In  many  cases  their  connection, 
on  investigation,  proved  to  be  innocent 
enough ;  in  most  the  worst  that  could  be 
said  of  them  was  that  they  conformed  to  the 
old  practice  of  getting  what  they  could  in  the 
way  of  offices  for  their  constituents ;  in  a  few 
the  evidence  of  corruption  was  unmistakable. 

205 


206  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

But  the  public,  excited  by  the  postal  revela- 
tions already  made,  was  not  in  a  humor  to 
discriminate,  and  every  man  mentioned,  how- 
ever harmlessly,  in  the  Bristow  report,  was 
advertised  in  flaming  letters  in  his  home 
paper. 

On  the  eve  of  a  congressional  election  such 
a  thing  was  serious.  It  threatened  political 
ruin  for  the  men  named,  those  who  knew 
themselves  to  be  innocent  and  those  who  were 
conscious  of  guilt  alike.  In  the  presence  of 
this  peril  the  House  was  wrought  up  to  a 
frenzy  of  fear  and  rage.  President  Roosevelt 
was  held  responsible,  and  in  the  white-hot  de- 
bate that  followed  he  was  denounced  by  innu- 
endo and  almost  by  name,  and  this  by  Re- 
publicans. 

The  furious  congressmen  branded  the  editor 
of  the  Bristow  report  with  such  names  as  liar, 
scoundrel,  coward  and  knave.  The  debate 
went  on  for  days,  getting  hotter  all  the  time. 
At  last  came  the  climax. 

The  tension  was  tremendous  when  a  Re- 
publican, Jenkins  of  Wisconsin,  demanded 
the  removal  of  Bristow  from  office,  and  when 
a  Democrat,  Clayton  of  Alabama,  made  a  ter- 
rific personal  attack  on  Postmaster-General 
Payne,  branding  him  as  an  ''  imbecile  "  and 
an  "  ass." 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  207 

Then  came  William  Alden  Smith  of  Mich- 
igan, who  delivered  a  savage  attack  upon  the 
executive  departments  in  general,  which 
roused  the  House  to  a  frenzy  of  approval.  As 
the  excitement  was  at  its  height  Mr.  Smith 
shouted  : 

"  When  the  people  want  a  really  popular 
candidate  for  the  presidency  they  take  him 
from  the  House  of  Representatives  !  " 

This  utterance  evoked  a  thunderclap  of  ap- 
plause, and  then  Smith,  raising  his  voice  still 
higher  and  waving  his  fist,  roared  out : 

"  And  I  hope  the  day  is  near  when  the 
people  will  crown  the  speaker  of  this  House, 
who  for  years  has  faithfully  served  the  people 
and  stood  between  the  Treasury  and  its  assail- 
ants, and  lift  him  with  the  general  consent  of 
the  nation  into  the  executive  office." 

At  this  the  House,  already  worked  to  a 
high  pitch  of  excitement,  went  crazy.  Shrieks 
and  yells  rent  the  air,  men  waved  their  arms 
and  rose  spontaneously  in  their  places.  The 
Democrats  joined  in  the  demonstration.  The 
speaker  was  talking  earnestly  to  Mr.  Olmsted 
of  Pennsylvania,  and  had  not  heard  what  was 
said. 

"  Mr.  Speaker,"  gasped  a  clerk,  *'  he's  nom- 
inated you  for  president,  and  they're  cheering 
you  I " 


208  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

The  speaker  sprang  to  his  feet  with  his  lips 
tight  set  and  his  eyes  flashing,  and  crashed  his 
gavel  down  with  all  his  strength.  The  tumult 
was  too  great  to  be  stopped  so  easily,  and  it 
had  no  effect  at  first.  But  the  speaker  stood 
there  banging  his  gavel  as  if  he  meant  to 
break  the  desk,  and  at  last  he  conquered  the 
uproar. 

So  great  was  the  panic  spread  among  the 
Republican  leaders  that  they  headed  Smith 
off  from  continuing.  Every  man,  except 
Smith,  who  asked  for  an  extension  of  time 
that  day  got  what  he  wanted,  but  when  Smith 
asked  the  usual  courtesy,  the  Republican 
leaders  refused  it. 

For  some  time  after  that  the  House  con- 
tinued to  simmer  and  sputter  over  the  Bristow 
report,  and  not  a  day  passed  that  some  white- 
hot  Solon  did  not  arise  and  emit  sparks.  But 
the  prairie  fire  that  had  swept  over  the  House 
was  dying  down,  and  in  a  week  the  only 
relics  of  it  were  the  burning  ruins  of  various 
once-promising  campaigns  for  renomination. 

William  Alden  Smith  could  not  then  set 
the  House  shrieking  hysterically  like  a  girls^ 
seminary  in  a  fire  panic,  either  by  nominating 
Speaker  Cannon  for  the  presidency  or  by  any 
other  sensational  "  stunt."  Smith  had  seized 
the  psychological  moment,  which  is  a  habit 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  209 

of  his,  remunerative  in  fame.  A  week  later 
the  House  looked  back  upon  that  frenzied  two 
minutes,  without  regret — for  it  was  a  cheap 
and  easy  way  to  express  its  real  opinion — but 
with  a  conviction  that  it  wouldn't  happen 
again. 

It  is  not  an  easy  thing  to  sweep  the  House 
off  its  feet  with  oratory,  as  William  Alden 
Smith  did  then  and  as  he  has  done  before. 
The  House  is  seasoned  and  cynical  to  oratory. 
Rhetoric  is  its  daily  food,  and  of  eloquence 
it  is  deadly  tired.  It  is  the  dream  of  many  a 
young  politician's  life  to  stand  in  the  House 
and  address  the  assembled  statesmen  on  the 
issues  of  the  day,  but  he  could  not  find  a 
more  unpromising  audience.  They  are  a  cal- 
lous lot,  as  to  oratory. 

Yet  the  right  man,  cooperating  with  the 
right  moment,  can  set  these  professional 
talkers  and  listeners  in  a  wilder  frenzy  than 
can  any  spellbinder  set  a  mass-meeting.  It 
has  been  proved,  though  probably  never  so 
convincingly  and  startlingly  as  when  William 
Alden  Smith  drove  the  House  suddenly  crazy 
by  his  unexpected  utterance  of  its  secret 
wish. 

It  takes  a  man  like  Smith  to  do  it.  Not 
even  the  fury  of  that  day  would  have  moved 
the  House  to  ratifv  the  nomination  of  Cannon 


9 


210  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 


had  a  speaker  of  a  different  class  made  the 
nomination.  The  Michigan  man  seems  to 
study  his  opportunities.  He  does  not  speak 
very  often,  does  not  accustom  the  House  too 
much  to  his  voice,  and  when  he  does  speak  it 
is  to  seize  the  hour  and  dominate  it. 

There  was  a  rumor  that  Smith  was  going  to 
follow  his  Cannon  speech  with  another. 
*'  No,"  said  he.  ''  When  you've  made  your 
bull's-eye,  it  won't  do  any  good  and  may 
damage  your  reputation  as  a  marksman  if  you 
fire  the  other  barrel." 

That  is  Smith  all  over.  He  never  fires 
without  a  bull's-eye  in  front  of  him  and  a  dead 
certainty  that  he  will  hit  it.  He  has  a  posi- 
tive genius  for  such  shots,  and  his  Cannon 
boom  was  one  of  them.  He  ought  to  get  a 
reputation  as  a  great  orator  if  he  keeps  it  up, 
and  yet  he  is  nothing  of  the  sort — he  is  merely 
a  magnetic  talker  with  a  positive  genius  for 
seeing  the  psychological  moment. 

In  the  tense  days  before  the  Spanish  war, 
after  the  blowing  up  of  the  Maine,  when  Con- 
gress was  at  a  fever  heat  of  excitement.  Smith 
went  to  Cuba.  He  came  back  and,  seizing  the 
right  moment,  delivered  a  speech  that  set  the 
House  as  stark,  staring  crazy  as  did  his 
nomination  of  Cannon.  He  told  what  he  had 
seen,  the   tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  as  he 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  211 

spoke,  and  the  excited  House  bounded  under 
his  touch  like  a  colt  under  the  spur. 

In  1902  the  House  Republicans  were 
wrought  up  over  President  Roosevelt's  at- 
tempt to  drive  them  into  a  support  of  the  Cu- 
ban reciprocity  bill  which,  at  that  time,  was 
against  their  convictions.  Excitement  and 
resentment  were  rife,  yet  the  sickening  con- 
sciousness of  what  happens  to  the  congress- 
man who  ''  bucks  "  the  White  House  palsied 
them. 

But  all  the  efforts  of  the  House  leaders, 
Henderson,  Payne,  Dalzell  and  Grosvenor, 
backed  with  the  White  House  threats  and 
pleadings,  were  for  a  time  ineffective.  At  last 
the  insurgents  began  to  weaken  ;  caucus  after 
caucus  was  held,  and  at  each  recruits  were  las- 
soed, branded  and  corralled.  With  each 
desertion  the  resentment  and  excitement 
grew  higher. 

It  was  another  psychological  moment. 
William  Alden  Smith,  with  his  unvarying 
and  certain  apprehension  of  such  things,  saw 
and  seized  it.  The  night  when  the  Republi- 
cans were  most  sullen  and  most  vindictive. 
Smith  took  the  floor  and  delivered  a  speech 
that  swept  them  like  a  fire  in  a  theatre.  He 
told  of  a  Republican  administration's  attempt 
to  crucify  an  American  industry  for  the  sake 


212  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

of  a  trust,  and  he  delivered  this  arraignment 
with  flashing  eyes  and  swinging  arms. 

As  it  was  a  caucus,  and  its  proceedings 
secret,  no  full  report  of  that  speech  has  ever 
been  made,  but  the  men  who  heard  it  came 
out  with  clinched  fists  and  burning  eyes. 
That  night  they  were  ready  to  beard  the 
White  House,  the  House  machine,  and  every- 
thing else.  Yet,  presumably,  it  was  like  all 
Smith's  speeches — merely  the  conjunction  of 
the  right  man  with  the  right  moment,  and  not 
a  great  speech  in  itself. 

He  is  not  a  ''  stayer  "  in  a  fight ;  if  he  were, 
with  that  talent  to  which  reference  has  been 
made,  he  might  make  history.  He  was  the 
first  beet  sugar  man  to  make  public  his  ad- 
herence to  the  cause  of  Cuban  reciprocity. 
He  was  at  the  White  House  bright  and  early 
to  tell  the  president  that  he  meant  no  harm 
by  his  Cannon  speech.  Hotl}^  as  he  flames  at 
the  right  moment,  he  knows  the  exact  moment 
when  to  cool  off*.  He  is  as  adroit  as  he  is 
fiery,  this  able  politician — once  bootblack, 
then  page  in  the  Michigan  Legislature,  then 
lawyer,  now  idol  of  his  district. 

If  not  a  great  speaker,  he  is  a  brilliant  one, 
whose  stock  in  trade  is  a  strong  voice,  a  fine 
flow  of  words,  a  striking  delivery  and  the 
psychological   moment.     Though   not   a    big 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  213 

man,  he  fills  the  eye ;  he  has  a  larger  display 
of  teeth  than  the  president  himself,  a  rosy 
face  that  flushes  when  he  speaks,  eyes  that 
flash,  and  a  mane  of  prematurely  gray  hair 
that  tosses  back  from  his  forehead. 

There  are  other  men  that  can  rouse  the 
House  from  its  cynical  and  skeptical  apathy 
towards  oratory.  General  Grosvenor  can  do 
it,  though  he  is  little  of  an  orator  in  the  ac- 
cepted sense.  His  pungent  style,  and  partic- 
ularly the  terrific  retorts  that  are  drawn  from 
him  by  the  slightest  interruption,  are  the 
delight  of  both  sides.  When  he  is  angry, 
which  is  often,  his  speeches  are  so  full  of  ta- 
basco that  it  would  take  a  much  more  callous 
body  than  the  House  to  refuse  a  response. 

Colonel  Hepburn  can  do  it,  though  he  is  no 
orator  at  alL  His  capital  is  a  tremendous 
fund  of  common  sense,  expressed  in  a  crisp, 
incisive  style,  and  a  stock  of  homely  wit.  As 
with  Grosvenor,  he  is  best  when  angry,  and 
interruptions  draw  forth  flashes  of  lightning. 

John  Sharp  Williams  can  do  it,  and  he  is 
an  orator,  though  nature  did  not  have  that  in 
mind  when  she  created  him.  His  voice  is  not 
naturally  that  of  an  orator  any  more  than  was 
Senator  Hoar's,  and  yet  he,  like  Hoar,  has 
made  it  as  fine  a  vehicle  for  speechmaking  as 
any  in  Congress.     Williams  never  gets  angry, 


214      '  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

is  always  in  full  possession  of  his  facts,  and 
has  a  graceful  and  winning  delivery. 

Champ  Clark,  with  a  big  reputation  as  a 
spellbinder,  interests  the  House  but  does  not 
move  it.  They  all  come  in  to  listen,  to  laugh, 
to  applaud,  but  he  does  not  stir  them ;  they 
regard  his  speeches  merely  as  an  entertain- 
ment. This  is  Clark's  own  fault.  He  is  a 
man  of  knowledge  and  breadth,  but  h6  volun- 
tarily chooses  to  play  to  the  galleries ;  he  cul- 
tivates a  rough,  harsh  style,  a  loud  voice  and 
the  things  that  please  the  crowd.  The  House 
knows  it,  and  refuses  to  be  moved. 

De  Armond  of  Missouri,  can  at  any  time 
move  the  House  profoundly,  not  by  elo- 
quence but  by  sarcasm.  There  is  nowhere  in 
the  capitol  such  a  master  of  bitter,  stinging, 
savage  irony.  He  almost  never  makes  a 
speech  without  it.  He  pillories,  crucifies,  his 
victims ;  it  is  not  the  genial  satire  of  Will- 
iams nor  the  tabasco  of  Grosvenor  and  Hep- 
burn. One  almost  pities  the  victim,  and  yet 
one  has  to  laugh.  He  speaks  extempora- 
neously, and  yet  every  sentence  is  as  rounded 
and  finished  as  if  he  had  spent  hours  in  re- 
polishing  it. 

Others  might  be  named  who  can  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice  rouse  the  House  from  apathy 
and  make  it  listen,  and  who  can  extort  from 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  215 

it,  cynical  as  it  is,  thunders  of  applause.  One 
such  is  the  new  man  from  Kentucky,  Ollie 
James,  a  giant  in  size,  with  a  voice  like  a 
church-organ,  who  succeeded  with  one  speech 
on  the  Goebel  case  in  plunging  the  House 
into  a  whole  afternoon  of  violent  partisan  re- 
crimination and  lashing  it  to  fury. 

After  all,  the  House,  weary  as  it  is  of 
speechmaking,  is  a  good,  rich  field  for  the 
right  man.  There  is  always  an  atmosphere 
of  democratic  turbulence  about  it.  The  cold 
dignity  of  the  Senate  chills  oratory.  Ap- 
plause is  strictly  forbidden  there,  but  there  is 
hardly  any  need  for  the  rule ;  the  man  who 
would  applaud  in  the  Senate  would  sing  coon 
songs  in  a  cathedral.  An  ice-house  is  a 
happy  and  felicitous  auditorium  compared 
with  the  Senate. 

The  restless,  busy,  quick-lunch  atmosphere 
which  hangs  over  the  House,  the  driving  gait 
at  which  business  is  transacted  there,  forbid 
that  man  should  altogether  forget  that  he  has 
nerves.  It  looks  suspiciously  on  oratory,  does 
the  House,  but  it  can  be  convinced,  and  it  can 
be  taken  by  storm.  The  Senate  cannot.  The 
Senate  has  never  forgotten  its  dignity  since 
the  epoch-making  day  in  1900  when  old 
Senator  Pettus  addressed  himself  conscien- 
tiously to  the  task  of  proving  to  3^oung  Sena- 


216  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

tor  Beveridge  that  the  Senate  did  not  care  for 
eloquence.  That  day  the  grave  and  reverend 
senators  pounded  their  desks  and  roared  their 
unwonted  mirth  in  stentorian  peals.  It  had 
the  effect  of  moderating  Beveridge's  rhetoric, 
and  then  the  Senate  returned  to  its  ancient 
dignity. 

The  Senate  will  always  be  a  morgue  for 
oratory ;  the  House  will  always  be  the  best 
possible  field  for  the  right  man. 


VIII 

BOURKE  COCKEAN  :  AND  LITTLEFIELD,  THE 
NEW  "MAN  FEOM  MAINE" 

The  first  session  of  the  Fifty-eighth  Con- 
gress was  a  do-nothing  session,  so  stigmatized 
at  the  time  by  the  writers  for  the  press,  until 
its  closing  week.  Not  that  it  did  anything 
momentous  in  that  week,  except  in  a  measure 
to  redeem  itself  from  the  charge  of  being  a 
session  as  interesting  as  the  dictionary  and  as 
sparkling  as  ditchwater.  In  that  closing 
week  the  power  of  oratory  awakened  it,  and 
for  days  there  was  a  tariff  debate  which  was 
as  nearly  great  as  any  debate  in  the  House 
ever  is. 

It  had  been  a  debate,  too,  greater  than  any 
held  in  the  Senate  for  some  years.  The  stars 
were  Cockran,  Dalzell,  Littlefield  and  Will- 
iams. It  had  been  long  since  cheers  punctu- 
ated every  other  sentence  of  a  speech  on  an 
economic  issue,  or  on  anything,  for  that 
matter ;  and  not  in  many  years  had  eloquence 
aroused  such  fervent  enthusiasm  as  did  all 
these  speeches. 

The  subject,  of  course,  had  much  to  do  with 
217 


218  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 


it.  For  a  moment,  if  no  more,  there  was 
sudden  revival  of  interest  in  the  tariff  ques- 
tion. It  seemed  likely  then  that  that  would 
be  the  issue  of  the  coming  presidential  cam- 
paign— though  events  ordered  otherwise — and 
the  subject  drew  forth  the  powers  of  these 
orators  and  set  an  apathetic,  cynical,  disgusted 
House  cheering  like  rooters  at  a  ball  game. 

The  debate  threw  tons  of  earth  on  the 
buried  theory  that  ''  the  House  is  no  place  for 
oratory."  Such  thin  foundation  as  that  yarn 
ever  had  is  simply  the  fact  that  orators  are 
scarce  and  vital  questions  not  as  common  as 
huckleberries.  The  House,  fed  daily  on  ora- 
tory, is  cynical  and  suspicious  towards  orators ; 
but  that  very  fact  gives  the  true  orator  a  tri- 
umph far  above  the  cheap  triumphs  of  the 
stump.  No  man  could  ask  for  a  better  arena 
and  a  better  audience  than  Cockran,  Dalzell, 
Littlefield  and  Williams  had  in  those  closing 
days. 

Bourke  Cockran 's  reentry  into  the  national 
field  that  year  was  practically  a  birth.  He 
was  not  the  Cockran  of  old  ;  he  was  a  bigger, 
broader  Cockran  and  a  far  more  dangerous 
foe.  In  his  previous  service  in  Congress  he 
had  made  '^  set  speeches,"  and  no  one  knew 
him  for  the  wonderful  debater  that  he  now 
proved  himself  to  be.     For  it  was  in  this  de- 


p 


W.    BOURKE    COCKlllV:^', 
"  It  was  a  new  Cockran  who  had  come  to  Congress/ 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  219 

bate  that  there  came  that  dramatic  scene  be- 
tween Cockran  and  Dalzell,  when  Dalzell 
made  imputations  on  the  New  Yorker's  in- 
tegrity and  met  a  Waterloo. 

There  was  a  fine,  even  an  artistic,  gradation 
in  the  way  Cockran  met  the  reckless  and  un- 
fortunate persons  who  were  one  by  one  sent 
forth  by  the  Republican  leaders  to  trip  him 
up,  culminating  in  the  avalanche  that  fell  on 
Dalzell.  The  first  interruption  to  his  speech 
came  from  old  General  Marsh  of  Illinois. 
Mr.  Marsh's  interruptions  were  not  very 
weighty,  and  Cockran  treated  the  old  gentle- 
man with  a  half-kindly,  half-contemptuous, 
wholly  weary  good  humor.  He  met  General 
Grosvenor  with  a  gentle  shower  of  ridicule 
which  aroused  the  peppery  Ohioan's  wrath  ; 
and  when  Grosvenor  became  angry  the  ridi- 
cule continued  and  made  a  contrast  with  the 
general's  futile  heat  that  made  even  the  Re- 
publicans laugh  uncontrollably.  Sereno 
Payne  then  entered  the  lists  and  brought 
forth  a  sharper  touch  of  Cockran 's  blade,  for 
the  Republican  floor  leader  was  unwise  enough 
to  make  a  slur  at  John  Sharp  Williams.  The 
retort  from  Cockran  was  no  longer  merely 
humorous  ;  it  made  Payne  wince  and  change 
color,  for  in  the  deftest  and  the  most  stinging 
manner  Cockran  managed  to  suggest  the  con- 


220  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

trast  between  Leader  Williams's  popularity 
with  his  followers  and  Leader  Payne's  un- 
popularity with  his. 

By  this  time  the  Republicans  began  to  think 
the  matter  was  past  a  joke.  The  three  leaders 
{not  including  the  speaker)  conferred  and 
fatuously  agreed  that  Dalzell  should  be  sent 
forth  to  attack  Cockran's  integrity.  That  mis- 
guided man  pranced  forth  gayly,  as  did  Louis 
Napoleon  to  his  doom  at  Sedan,  and  Cockran 
went  over  Dalzell  like  a  steam  roller. 

From  the  moment  when,  challenged  to  pro- 
duce the  name  of  his  informant,  Dalzell  began 
to  shake  and  wither  before  the  blast  of  Cock- 
ran's stormy  rage,  the  battle  was  lost.  Dal- 
zell's  prestige  did  not  recover  for  many  a  long 
day.  Impotent  and  silently  furious,  the  wise 
old  speaker  watched  helplessly  the  fiasco 
which  his  ill-advised  lieutenants  had  brought 
about  and  saw  with  indignation  the  humiliat- 
ing predicament  of  his  Republican  army. 

The  newspaper  reports  of  the  time — and 
still  more,  of  course,  the  Congressional  Record 
— utterly  fail  to  give  any  idea  of  the  dramatic 
nature  of  the  scene  when  the  whole  Demo- 
cratic side,  rising  as  one  man,  shouted  ""  Name 
him ! "  at  Cockran's  accuser,  and  Cockran, 
striding  down  the  aisle,  seemed  to  have  evoked 
a   whirlwind   that  was    rushing  down   upon 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  221 

Dalzell  and  swallowing  him  up.  Dalzell  is  no 
novice ;  he  is  accustomed  to  parliamentary 
storms,  and  had  never  before  been  taken  off 
his  feet ;  but  beneath  the  tremendous  onrush 
of  that  storm  of  indignation  he  lost  himself, 
speech  failed  him,  and  to  the  mighty  roar  of 
''  Sit  down  !  sit  down  ! "  he  gave  in,  and  sat 
down. 

That  day  and  that  night  the  Democrats 
celebrated  as  after  a  victory  in  a  national 
election.  It  had  been  many  years  since  the 
old  ''  rebel  yell  "  had  rung  out  in  Congress, 
but  it  was  loud  amid  the  shouts  and  cheers 
that  greeted  Dalzell's  downfall.  In  the  even- 
ing the  Democrats  held  a  sort  of  jubilee  all 
over  Washington.  Wherever  one  met  a  crowd 
of  Democrats  they  were  toasting  each  other, 
slapping  each  other  on  the  back  and  reciting 
all  they  could  remember  of  Cockran's  speech. 
The  Metropolitan  and  National  Hotels  and 
other  centres  of  Democracy  looked  like  the 
campaign  headquarters  of  a  political  party 
on  the  night  of  a  successful  election. 

It  was  a  new  Cockran  who  had  come  to 
Congress,  not  the  old  Cockran  returned  after 
a  lapse  of  years.  The  wizard  voice  and  the 
magic  words  set  the  House  cheering  like 
schoolboys,  but  the  enthusiasm  for  his  elo- 
quence was  a  mere  shadow  of  the  wild  and 


222  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

boiling  frenzy  that  seized  upon  those  men  so 
cynically  sick  of  much  speechmaking  when 
adversaries  rose  to  impede  his  path  and  he 
tossed  them  out  of  his  way  like  feathers.  In 
giving  us  the  new  Bourke  Cockran  the  session 
made  up  in  large  degree  for  its  lack  of  accom- 
plishment in  other  directions,  as  it  did  in  pre- 
senting to  the  country  the  quaintest  and 
most  lovable  of  speakers  and  in  lifting  into 
the  limelight  such  a  sterling  character  as 
John  Sharp  Williams.  It  dawned  then  upon 
Washington  that  Cockran  had  not  ceased  to 
grow,  and  he  seemed  less  a  man  of  the  present 
than  of  the  future — a  future  which  may  recall 
the  days  of  Phillips,  Beecher  and  Sumner,  and 
give  the  American  galaxy  of  orators  another 
star. 

Next  in  the  quartet  comes  Williams. 
There  are  some  who,  setting  up  a  hard-fast 
rule  for  oratory,  say  that  Williams  is  not  one. 
If  to  do  as  he  did  in  that  debate — if 
so  to  thrill  your  audience  that  one  moment 
every  man  of  them  is  painfully  holding  his 
breath,  the  next  moment  letting  out  a  sigh  or 
a  gasp,  and  then  cheering  like  a  lunatic  in 
defiance  of  all  the  rules  and  customs  of  the 
House  of  Representatives,  is  to  be  an  orator, 
then  Williams  is  one,  whether  he  conforms  to 
tape-measure  rules  or  not. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  223 

But  Williams  is  a  House  orator.  Take  him 
away  from  those  surroundings  and  he  loses 
something.  As  temporary  chairman  of  the 
St.  Louis  Convention  in  1904  he  disappointed 
the  expectations  of  those  who  had  heard  of 
him  but  had  never  seen  him ;  for  that  soft, 
slender  voice  of  his  was  lost  in  that  great 
arena.  On  the  stump  he  does  not  compare 
with  men  by  no  means  his  equal  as  a  speaker. 
It  is  in  the  House  that  he  finds  his  field,  and 
as  a  debater  that  he  is  great. 

Dalzell  is  usually  dry  and  uninteresting, 
and  has  the  wearisome  vice  of  making  up  his 
speeches  out  of  elaborate  quotations  from  doc- 
uments, interspersed  with  editorial  comment ; 
but  on  the  day,  several  days  removed  from 
Cockran's  defeat  of  him,  that  he  came  to  re- 
ply, he  rose  to  unexpected  heights  and  got  an 
ovation  that  must  have  surprised  him  and  for 
which  a  long  search  through  his  recollections 
of  his  own  life  could  have  given  him  no  prec- 
edent. Anger,  rising  to  the  fury  point,  and 
born  of  Cockran's  terrific  onslaught  upon 
him,  drew  the  dry  plodder  out  of  himself  and 
for  the  moment  made  an  orator  of  him,  despite 
his  high  voice  rising  to  a  screech  and  his  un- 
impressive little  figure.  Had  he  not  been 
again  overwhelmed  the  next  moment  by  the 
magic  voice  and  terrible  indignation  of  Cock- 


224  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

ran,  the  speech  would  have  been  far  more 
notable  than  it  was.  It  was  not  all  an  assault 
on  Cockran's  character,  though  that  was  the 
part  which  received  most  mention  in  the 
newspapers  ;  half  of  it  was  on  the  Democrat's 
tariff  views,  and  even  there  Dalzell  was  so  un- 
usually forceful,  so  unlike  himself,  as  to  sur- 
prise his  opponents  and  please  his  friends. 

It  remains  to  speak  of  Littlefield,  the  fourth 
voice  in  this  remarkable  quartet  which  fur- 
nished music  and  drama  to  a  Congress  that  had 
been  all  cacophony  and  snores,  and  which  re- 
deemed a  paralyzed  and  imbecile  session  from 
the  contempt  of  man. 

Tall  and  straight  as  a  pine-tree  of  his  native 
State,  strongly  built  as  the  woodsmen  of  the 
Rangely  Lakes,  yet  with  not  an  ounce  of 
superfluous  flesh;  with  the  long  face  and  jut- 
ting chin  that  mark  the  Yankee,  the  eye  of 
an  eagle,  and  the  voice  of  an  ocean  storm  off 
the  coast  of  Maine,  Littlefield  was  New  Eng- 
land incarnate  as  he  faced  the  mellow- voiced, 
liquid-spoken  planter  from  Mississippi  in  the 
last  hours  of  the  debate. 

Aggressiveness  and  pugnacity  seem  to  sur- 
round the  man  as  he  rises,  and  before  he  has 
said  a  word.  His  gestures  would  be  ungrace- 
ful if  anybody  else  used  them,  but  they  so 
fit  in  with  his  character  that  they  seem  ex- 


CHARLES    E.    LITTLEFIELD. 
"  New  England  incarnate." 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  225 

actly  right,  and  as  if  anything  else  would  be 
inadequate  to  the  rough  and  stormy  nature 
of  the  man.  He  gesticulates  chiefly  with  his 
head,  beating  down  the  air  with  it  as  he  brings 
out  his  points.  Then  he  takes  his  hand  out 
of  his  trousers  pocket  and  swings  it  through 
the  air  with  the  motion  of  a  man  sweeping 
everything  out  of  the  way  before  him.  When 
he  raises  his  finger  in  the  air  it  is  not  with 
the  argumentative  manner  of  a  man  discuss- 
ing a  proposition,  but  as  if  it  were  a  weapon 
with  which  he  would  cleave  the  skull  of  any 
one  so  rash  as  to  get  in  the  way. 

If  this  suggests  that  Littlefield  is  a  swash- 
buckler or  a  ranter,  it  conveys  an  error.  He 
is  a  great  constitutional  lawyer,  a  man  of 
breadth  and  profundity,  sagacious,  clear- 
headed and  liberal.  These  qualities  are  gen- 
erally associated  with  *'  sweet  reasonableness," 
softness  of  manner,  and  reserve.  Littlefield 
is  a  broad-minded  man  who  is  also  a  fighter  ; 
he  is  a  compound  of  Hoar  and  Tillman. 
There  is  no  dissent  on  either  the  Republican 
or  the  Democratic  side  from  the  proposition 
that  he  is  one  of  the  clearest  thinkers  and 
ablest  men  who  have  ever  sat  in  either  branch 
of  the  American  Congress. 

By  nature  he  is  an  ''  insurgent."  He  is  one 
of  the  few  Republicans  in  Congress  who  will 


226  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

not  only  fight  against  a  party  policy  he  does 
not  like,  but  vote  against  it.  He  entered  the 
House  in  1899,  and  his  first  speech  was  on 
the  case  of  the  Mormon  Roberts.  He  took 
the  unpopular  side  ;  he  defied  his  party  and 
the  sentiment  of  his  State. 

Instead  of  being  knocked  out  of  public  life 
by  this  daring  performance — daring  on  the 
part  of  a  new  congressman — Littlefield  stepped 
with  that  speech  into  the  front  rank  of  the 
House,  new  though  he  was,  and  almost  im- 
possible as  that  feat  is  to  a  new  man.  It  was 
the  strongest  argument  from  the  standpoint 
of  constitutional  law  that  had  been  heard  in 
Congress  for  many  a  day ;  far  and  away  the 
greatest  speech  of  that  session. 

Then  came  President  McKinley's  fight  for 
a  tariff  with  Porto  Rico.  The  new  congress- 
man stood  out  against  the  White  House  influ- 
ence and  the  lash  of  the  House  machine,  while 
other  protestants  were  meekly  swallowing  their 
words.  He  and  McCall  of  Massachusetts,  a 
man  of  the  Hoar  type,  delivered  two  really 
great  speeches  in  defiance  of  their  party,  and 
Littlefield  pounded  the  air  with  his  head  and 
beat  it  with  his  finger  in  his  dogmatic  way  as 
he  sent  this  opening  sentence  at  the  Repub- 
lican leaders  like  a  bullet  from  a  gun  : 

^'  Mr.  Chairman  :     I  believe  that  the  pend- 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  227 

ing  bill  is  un-Republican,  un-American,  un- 
warranted, unprecedented,  and  unconstitu- 
tional." 

Again,  he  fought  his  party  on  the  Cuban 
reciprocity  bill,  solely  because  he  believed  it 
wrong.  There  are  no  beet-sugar  factories  in 
his  district  and  nobody  could  slur  him  by  the 
epithet,  **  beet-sugar  Republican." 

The  course  that  the  chronic  insurgent  runs 
in  Congress  is  generally  swift  and  to  a  painful 
goal.  But  with  every  fresh  insurrection  Lit- 
tlefield  rose  higher  and  higher,  because  his 
splendid  ability  and  commanding  power  re- 
ceived fresh  illustration  with  each.  The  Re- 
publican triumvirate  growled  and  muttered, 
and  looked  on  his  progress  with  dismay,  but 
there  was  nothing  that  could  be  done.  All 
the  old  home  remedies,  all  the  approved  and 
time-sanctioned  methods  of  dealing  with  in- 
surgents by  the  House  grandmothers,  all  the 
good  old-fashioned  punishments  that  mother 
used  to  make,  failed  in  the  presence  of  such 
an  uncommon  man. 

Littlefield's  undoing  came  in  another  way  ; 
it  came  by  reason  of  the  prominence  in  which 
the  end  of  the  first  session  of  the  Fifty-seventh 
Congress  left  him.  The  president  had  just 
begun  his  campaign  on  trusts,  and  it  was  semi- 
officially given  out  that  Mr.  Littlefield  would 


228  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

be  called  in  conference  and  entrusted  with 
the  legislative  part  of  the  work,  as  his  ^'  knowl- 
edge of  constitutional  law  was  admitted." 

Thereupon  certain  newspapers  friendly  to 
the  trusts  began  a  campaign  of  ridicule  against 
Littlefield.  His  personal  characteristics,  his 
home  life,  everything  about  him,  were  merci- 
lessly lampooned.  "  The  Roosevelt-Knox- 
Littlefield  triumvirate  "  was  held  up  to  ridi- 
cule, and  when  the  summer  was  over  and 
Congress  ready  to  meet  again  the  president, 
whose  sensitiveness  to  criticism  is  well  known, 
was  sensitive  about  Littlefield. 

Besides  that,  Littlefield  was  really  desirous 
of  putting  through  an  anti-trust  measure. 
The  president  early  discovered  that  this  could 
not  be  done,  and  his  programme  settled  down 
into  a  bill  against  rebates,  presented  by  Sen- 
ator Elkins,  and  the  creation  of  the  Bureau 
of  Corporations  in  the  Department  of  Com- 
merce, presented  b}^  Senator  Nelson. 

These  were,  or  became,  the  administration 
measures.  Littlefield  still  supposed  he  was 
the  representative  of  the  administration,  and 
he  went  ahead  with  his  bill.  He  actually  did 
not  discover  the  full  truth  until  the  day  the 
Department  of  Commerce  bill  was  to  be  put 
upon  its  passage.  Then  he  went  to  the  White 
House,  and  there  is  said  to  have  been  a  hot 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  229 

explanation  on  both  sides.  Littlefield's  bill 
was  beaten,  and  the  administration  measures 
went  through. 

Littlefield  was.  left  in  a  most  ridiculous  po- 
sition. He  was  a  fallen  giant,  and  the  House 
leaders,  who  had  hitherto  discreetly  kept  out 
of  range  of  his  sledge-hammer,  came  out  of 
their  caves  and  openly  taunted  him,  flouted 
him,  jeered  at  him. 

The  power  of  ridicule  is  as  great  here  as  in 
France.  Littlefield  knew  it,  and  being  a  man 
as  full  of  sense  as  he  is  of  dash  and  pugnacity, 
acted  accordingly.  He  determined  to  accept 
his  overthrow,  retire  from  public  view,  and 
bide  his  timCo  He  was  completely  effaced, 
and  though  that  all  happened  at  the  begin- 
ning of  1903,  the  spring  of  1904  found  Little- 
field still  sitting  in  the  background,  as  far 
from  the  rays  of  the  calcium  as  he  could  get. 

He  knew  he  had  only  to  wait ;  that  a  man 
of  his  uncommon  breed  could  not  be  snuffed 
out  forever  by  one  fiasco.  He  waited  until 
the  closing  days  of  the  session  of  1904,  and 
then  burst  forth  from  his  retirement,  the  Lit- 
tlefield of  old,  the  ofiicial  representative  of  his 
party,  put  forth  to  cross  swords  with  Cockran 
and  Williams  on  the  issue  of  the  hour. 

Yet  even  here  his  old-time  independence  of 
thought  could  not  be  Cast  away,  party  spokes- 


230  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

man  though  he  was.  When  De  Armond  de- 
manded to  know  if  he  would  keep  the  tariff 
on  goods  sold  abroad  cheaper  than  at  home, 
Littlefield  bluntly  answered^  that  he  would 
take  it  off;  and  Democratic  applause  inter- 
rupted the  speech  of  the  Republican  mouth- 
piece, who  could  not,  to  save  his  life,  be  noth- 
ing but  a  mouthpiece. 

His  opening  sentences  were  such  a  tribute 
to  Cockran  as  marked  most  emphatically  his 
dissent  from  Dalzell's  assault  on  the  New 
Yorker.  But  here,  while  his  utterance  car- 
ried confusion  into  the  camp  of  Dalzell,  Payne 
and  Grosvenor,  he  was  not  such  an  insurgent 
as  might  be  supposed.  There  was  a  w^ell- 
founded  suspicion  that  that  wise  old  gentle- 
man affectionately  known  as  "Uncle  Joe" 
knew  what  he  was  going  to  do,  and  was  not 
displeased  with  it.  Mr.  Cannon's  stock  of 
common  sense  runs  from  his  bald  spot  to  his 
heels,  and  he  did  not  regard  the  Dalzell  pro- 
ceeding as  the  flower  of  political  wisdom.  In 
the  closing  hours  of  the  session  it  was  a  sight 
furnishing  much  food  for  thought  to  see  "  Un- 
cle Joe  "  conducting  public  business  with  the 
gavel  in  his  right  hand  and  his  left  arm 
twined  affectionately  around  Bourke  Cockran. 

Littlefield's  day  of  humiliation  was  over ; 
he  had  come  out  of  bis  sackcloth  and  ashes 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  231 

and  had  donned  his  armor  again.  There  is  a 
big  future  before  this  big-bodied,  big-brained 
man.  His  colleagues  know  it ;  and  though 
there  are  four  representatives  and  two  senators 
from  the  Pine-Tree  State,  Littlefield  alone 
bears,  by  general  consent,  that  illustrious  and 
significant  title  which  was  borne  first  by 
Blaine  and  then  by  Reed,  but  by  no  one  else 
— "  the  Man  from  Maine." 


IX 

HEAEST  IN  CONGEESS 

The  fact  that  a  new  and  unknown  force  has 
entered  politics  in  recent  years,  a  force  un- 
knowable by  any  of  the  old  rules,  was  dem- 
onstrated in  New  York  in  the  election  of 
1905.  It  was  a  surprise  only  to  those  who 
have  not  bothered  to  follow  the  public  career 
of  William  Randolph  Hearst ;  who  have  dis- 
missed him  lightly  and  with  contempt,  as  a 
mere  notoriety-seeker. 

In  the  loose  and  careless  classification  of 
such  idle  observers,  Hearst  has  been  roughly 
classified  with  Bryan.  Yet  in  the  fight  for 
the  control  of  the  Democratic  convention  of 
1904,  when  Bryan  was  making  his  last  des- 
perate contest  for  the  control  of  the  party  ; 
when  he  was  grasping  at  any  straw,  and  when 
in  his  struggle  he  snatched  even  at  the  will- 
o'-the-wisp  which  he  saw  dancing  by  in  the 
cheers  for  Cockrell ;  he  refused  all  tempta- 
tions to  ally  himself  with  Hearst.  There  is  no 
keener  observer  than  Bryan  ;  and  although 
Hearst  seemed  to  be  the  only  refuge  for  him, 
he  knew  that  an  alliance  with  Hearst  was  for 
him  an  impossibility. 

232 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  233 

Bryan  is  a  radical  ?  Yes  ;  but  between  his 
radical  Democracy  and  the  unconcealed  So- 
cialism of  Hearst  there  lies  the  widest  gulf. 
Bryan  is  a  conservative,  compared  to  Hearst. 
If  that  favorite  speculation  of  fireside  philoso- 
phers, an  American  1789,  could  come  to  pass, 
there  would  be  all  the  difference  between 
Bryan  and  Hearst  that  there  was  between 
Mirabeau  and  Desmoulins. 

Hearst  in  Congress  has  been  working  for  a 
definite  end  ;  and  those  who  think  it  is  mere 
self-advertisement  will  find  more  awakenings 
than  the  one  of  1905.  He  aims  to  be  the  cap- 
tain of  the  forces  of  social  discontent.  He  aims 
to  organize  and  become  the  leader  of  the  radicals 
of  the  country  ;  and  in  that  scheme  there  is  no 
place  for  Bryan.  There  is  no  present  prospect 
of  success  for  him  ;  but  whenever  there  are 
hard  times  the  tide  of  radicalism  rises  a  little 
higher  than  it  did  in  the  previous  panic. 
There  was  radicalism  after  the  panic  of  1873  ; 
but  after  the  panic  of  1893  radicalism  seized 
upon  one  of  the  great  political  parties  of  the 
country  and  nominated  its  candidate  for 
president.  That  was  an  advance  over  what 
radicalism  had  accomplished  after  the  panic 
of  1873.  After  the  next  panic  there  may  be 
another  advance.  This  is  seed  time  for 
Hearst,  and  if  he  is  to  reap  a  harvest  it  will 


234  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

be  in  the  next  panic.  It  is  all  guesswork  to 
speculate  on  how  far  he  can  go  when  those 
hard  times  come.  That  he  will  have  to  be 
reckoned  with,  no  impartial  observer  of  his 
steady  course  can  doubt.  Bryan  certainly 
cannot  doubt  it. 

Hearst  in  Congress  has  been  scoffed  at  be- 
cause he  was  careless  about  his  attendance 
and  about  his  votes.  Hearst  was  only  nomi- 
nally there  as  the  representative  of  the  Elev- 
enth New  York  District.  Actually  he  was 
there  as  the  representative  of  certain  definite 
aims  in  the  politics  of  this  country.  He  was 
there  as  the  apostle  of  social  discontent.  For 
bills  improving  creeks  and  removing  desertion 
records  he  cared  nothing.  He  never  cared  to 
attend  except  when  something  bearing  on  his 
own  definite  line  of  policy  was  involved.  He 
was  on  hand  when  labor  bills  were  up  ;  any 
chance  to  advance  his  socialistic  principles 
did  not  find  him  idle. 

For  speechmaking  in  the  House  he  had 
nothing  but  unconcealed  contempt.  In  1905, 
when  Sullivan  of  Massachusetts  made  that 
savage  attack  upon  him,  Sullivan  thought 
to  hurt  him  by  holding  up  to  scorn  his 
voicelessness.  The  shot  glanced  off.  *'  I  do 
not  know  any  way,"  remarked  Hearst,  with 
supreme  contempt,  ''  in  which  a  man  ciiu  be 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  235 

less  effective  for  his  constituents  and  less  use- 
ful to  them  than  in  emitting  chewed  wind  on 
the  floor  of  this  House." 

But  it  is  not  as  a  mere  believer  in  certain 
principles  that  Hearst  interests  himself  in 
Congress.  He  is  there  to  make  himself,  not  a 
follower  in  the  ranks,  but  the  leader.  Hence 
he  takes  active  part  only  in  those  things 
wherein  he  may  lead.  And  by  the  very  vio- 
lence of  his  methods,  the  very  grim  determi- 
nation evident  in  everything  he  did  to  make 
himself  the  captain  of  the  social  insurgents, 
he  gathered  about  himself  a  small  knot  of 
followers  in  his  first  session.  In  the  second 
it  grew.  In  the  first  many  men  who  believed 
as  he  did  held  aloof  because  of  the  obloquy 
which  clung  to  him  and  still  more  because  of 
the  story  that  his  followers  were  paid  to  be 
such.  By  the  second  session  this  pay-roll 
story  had  ceased  to  be  so  generally  accepted, 
and  men  of  unquestioned  honesty  did  not 
hesitate  occasionally  to  enroll  themselves  in 
what  was  called  in  Washington  "  the  Hearst 
brigade." 

In  the  first  session  "  the  Hearst  brigade " 
consisted  of  six  men.  In  the  second  it  had 
grown  to  a  dozen  or  more.  In  the  present 
Congress  it  will  be  interesting  to  see  whether 
he  is  any  more  of  a  force  in  the  House  than 


236  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

he  was  in  1904-5.  The  majority  of  the  Demo- 
crats look  upon  him  with  hatred,  and  at  first 
they  looked  upon  him  with  contempt.  It  is 
not  impossible  that  that  hatred  may  soon  be 
intermixed  with  fear  ;  not  fear  of  what  he  can 
actually  accomplish  in  Congress,  but  fear  of 
what  he  may  do  to  the  Democratic  party 
outside  of  it.  He  is  much  more  seriously 
reckoned  with  now  in  the  Democratic  party 
of  the  nation  than  when  he  first  came  to 
Congress.  The  laughter  has  died  away  long 
since. 

Hearst  came  to  Congress  in  December,  1903. 
At  the  same  time  he  entered  upon  his  canvass 
for  the  presidential  nomination.  It  is  no 
unusual  thing  for  a  member  of  the  House  to  be 
a  prominent  presidential  possibility,  but  it  is 
a  very  unusual  thing  for  a  congressman  to  be 
thus  vividly  in  the  limelight  and  yet  for  so 
little  to  be  known  about  his  work  in  Congress 
as  was  the  case  with  Hearst. 

Hearst's  position  in  Congress  was  as  strange 
and  isolated  as  was  his  boom  unique  among 
booms.  He  is  not  a  ''  mixer,"  and  the  ma- 
jority of  the  Democrats  were  as  aloof  from 
him  as  he  from  them.  As  a  presidential  can- 
didate it  was  to  be  expected  that  he  would  be 
the  centre  of  a  knot  of  politicians  seeking 
conference  and  counsel,  whenever  he  entered 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  237 

the  hall ;  that  he  would  be  a  marked  man, 
his  opinion  sought,  his  handshake  desired. 

Yet  he  went  the  usual  road  of  new  con- 
gressmen, sought  only  by  his  own  little 
clique  of  friends,  as  is  the  custom  with  all 
legislative  tyros.  When  he  came  into  the 
hall  he  sat  chatting  with  his  friend  Hughes 
or  Livernash,  unsought  and  unregarded  ;  and 
when  he  arose  to  go  his  progress  to  the  door 
was  unchecked  by  any  eager  partisan  seeking 
light  or  pledging  support. 

Nor  did  he  make  any  impression  on  Con- 
gress or  on  the  Democratic  minority  by  his 
advocacy  of  his  own  views  on  public  ques- 
tions. He  made  these  fights  now  and  then, 
and  as  soon  as  he  began  one  all  the  old  war- 
riors would  take  their  seats,  a  silence  would 
fall  on  them,  and  Hearst  and  his  supporters 
had  the  field  entirely  to  themselves.  The 
Democratic  party  in  the  House  was  smitten 
and  frozen  with  a  torpidity  like  that  of  the 
Sleeping  Beauty's  court,  as  if  Hearst  had  been 
a  political  fairy  godmother  weaving  a  spell  of 
lethargy  ;  and  on  their  motionless  ranks  there 
sat  a  silence  so  ostentatious  that  it  was  fairly 
blatant.  The  whole  side  seemed  to  wear  a 
sign  saying,  ''  This  does  not  concern  us.  Be- 
hold us  as  spectators." 

When  the  fight  was  over,  and  Hearst  and 


2:^^  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

his  cohorts  retired,  the  old-line  Democrats 
would  wake  to  life,  and  the  never-ending  bat- 
tle of  regular  Democrats  and  regular  Repub- 
licans was  resumed  in  the  same  old  way. 

Hearst's  methods  in  conducting  one  of  these 
fights  were  as  peculiar  and  unprecedented  as 
were  all  the  other  features  of  his  novel  boom. 
Before  describing  them  it  should  be  premised 
that  he  is  a  congressman  who  is  very  seldom 
in  his  seat.  For  the  first  half  of  his  first  session 
he  was  almost  as  unknown  by  sight  to  the  fre- 
quenters of  the  galleries  as  ''  Tim  "  Sullivan  ; 
and  that,  let  it  be  explained  to  the  uninitiated, 
is  a  phrase  which  represents  the  uttermost 
limit.  To  Congress  *'  Tim  "  Sullivan  is  a  Mrs. 
Harris.  He  dawned  on  the  opening  day  of 
his  first  session  in  resplendent  clothes,  and 
then  evidently  came  to  the  conclusion  that  as 
a  shcfw  the  House  was  not  what  it  was  cracked 
up  to  be.  Since  that  time  no  vision  of  Sul- 
livan has  repaid  the  straining  eyes  in  the  gal- 
leries, and  it  is  a  current  and  growing  tenet  of 
the  habitual  spectators  that  ''  there  ain't  no 
sich  a  person." 

After  a  while  Hearst  came  into  the  hall  of- 
tener,  but  his  visits  were  still  infrequent  and 
he  never  stayed  long.  He  was  recorded  on 
very  few  roll-calls,  and  he  never  heard  more 
than  a  snatch  of  a  single  debate,  except  those 


I 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  2,39 

which  he  personally  directed.  The  moment 
one  of  these  Hearst  debates  was  over  he  would 
arise  and,  sticking  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
lounge  out  of  the  House. 

His  face  and  figure  gradually  grew  more 
familiar  to  the  galleries.  Frequently  a  whis- 
per of  ^'  There's  Hearst !  "  rushed  through 
them,  and  everybody  looked  at  the  candidate, 
while  down  on  the  floor  no  one  batted  an  eye. 
But  if  you  took  your  eye  off  him  for  a  minute 
it  was  like  putting  your  hand  on  a  fly  and 
then  taking  it  off;  when  you  looked  for  him 
again  he  was  gone. 

In  the  House,  to  sum  it  up,  Hearst  was  no 
more  than  a  spectator  except  when  one  of  his 
own  fights  was  on.  He  was  hardly  even  that, 
for  when  he  came  in  he  conferred  continually 
with  the  five  or  six  men  of  '^  the  Hearst  bri- 
gade," and  went  out  as  soon  as  his  conference 
was  over ;  and  it  is  a  safe  bet  that  he  did  not 
even  know  what  was  up  for  consideration. 

But  iu  committee  work  it  was  different. 
At  the  beginning  of  the  session  he  desired  a 
place  on  the  Labor  Committee.  Leader  Will- 
iams had  already  made  up  his  slate  before 
Hearst  entered  the  field,  and  he  told  the  can- 
didate so  and  expressed  his  regret.  Mr.  Hearst 
took  the  decision  good-naturedly  and  made  no 
comment.     Shortly  thereafter  petitions  from 


240  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

labor  unions  all  over  the  country  began  to 
pour  in  on  Speaker  Cannon  and  Mr.  Williams 
to  put  Hearst  on  the  committee  ;  meetings  be- 
gan to  be  held,  and  organized  labor  appeared 
to  be  in  a  state  of  volcanic  eruption. 

Cannon  and  Williams  remained  firm,  but 
one  of  Williams's  appointee^  bowed  to  the 
storm.  This  man  gracefully  resigned  in 
Hearst's  favor,  and  the  Labor  Committee  was 
completed  accordingly.  Perhaps  this  will  af- 
ford illustration  enough  of  the  absolutely 
unique  methods  by  which  the  Hearst  contin- 
gent prosecute  ever}'-  enterprise  connected  with 
their  movement. 

Hearst  also  desired  to  get  on  the  Ways  and 
Means  Committee,  but  this  was  totally  impos- 
sible, and  he  settled  down  to  his  work  on  the 
other.  Here  his  work  has  been  consistently 
in  line  with  his  views.  He  has  attended  all 
the  meetings  at  which  testimony  has  been 
taken,  and  has  participated  in  them. 

The  labor  bills  before  the  committee  in  that 
session  were  the  eight-hour  and  convict-labor 
measures.  The  former  was  a  sore  point  with 
the  Republicans,  with  a  presidential  election 
coming  on,  and  they  were  aware  that  Hearst 
and  his  lieutenant  on  the  committee,  Hughes 
of  New  Jersey,  would  fight  to  have  the  measure 
brought  up.     They  endeavored  to    meet  the 


1 


"^rr 


WILLIAM   RANDOLPH   HEARST. 
"  The  apostle  of  social  discontent." 


O    €      <      ^t      c 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  241 

emergency  by  the  strategic  device  of  holding 
endless  hearings  which  were  to  string  the 
thing  out  to  the  end  of  the  session  without  re- 
sult. 

In  these  hearings  Hearst  frequently  asked 
questions  and  made  suggestions  designed  to 
bring  out  the  organized  labor  side  of  the  case. 
He  pointed  to  the  trial  of  the  eight-hour  sys- 
tem in  England,  and  he  crossed  swords  with 
witnesses  over  the  argument  against  the  eight- 
hour  law  on  government  contracts  that  it 
would  delay  ^the  work.  He  opposed  to  this 
the  shift  system,  pointing  out  how  he,  as  an 
employer  himself,  kept  his  own  plant  running 
night  and  day. 

On  the  convict  labor  bill  he  produced  testi- 
mony, hunted  up  witnesses,  and  in  general 
managed  the  discussion  of  the  bill  before  the 
committee.  In  addition  to  this,  he  took  a 
share  in  pushing  labor  bills  before  other  com- 
mittees. He  worked  for  the  anti-injunc- 
tion bill  before  the  Judiciary  Committee  and 
for  the  bill  relieving  unions  from  the  opera- 
tion of  the  anti-trust  laws  before  the  Ways 
and  Means  Committee.  In  both  cases  he  pro- 
duced witnesses  and  secured  their  attendance. 

It  would  probably  not  have  detracted  from 
Mr.  Hearst's  popularity  with  those  who  sup- 
ported him  if  they  had  known  that  he  paid 


242  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

absolutely  no  attention  to  any  bills  but  labor 
bills,  and  that  so  far  as  legislation  of  any  other 
kind  is  concerned  he  might  as  well  not  be  a 
member  of  Congress.  Nor  should  it ;  he  is  in 
Congress  for  a  purpose,  laboring  towards  a 
single  end,  and  does  not  scatter  his  fire. 
What  he  is  doing  is  as  nearly  unique  as  the 
position  he  occupies,  and  it  is  not  fair  to  judge 
him  by  the  tests  that  are  applied  to  other  con- 
gressmen. 

But  the  most  picturesque  side  of  Hearst's 
life  in  Congress  was  seen  when  a  fight  came 
up  on  one  of  his  pet  measures.  A  single  ex- 
ample will  serve — the  time  in  1904  when 
*'  the  Hearst  brigade  "  attempted  to  add  the 
eight-hour  law  to  the  Naval  Appropriation 
bill,  and  thus  flank  the  Republican  plan  of 
eternal  oratory  in  the  Labor  Committee. 

Mr.  Hearst  surprised  everybody  by  coming 
in,  and  there  was  the  usual  craning  of  necks 
in  the  gallery  and  the  usual  ostentatious  in- 
difference on  the  floor.  Then  began  one  of 
the  strangest  scenes  ever  witnessed  in  Con- 
gress, and  one  absolutely  without  precedent. 

Without  uttering  a  word  except  in  a  whis- 
per ;  sitting  on  the  small  of  his  back  with  one 
long  knee  in  the  air,  and  apparently  having 
nothing  to  do  with  the  debate,  for  three-quar- 
ters of  an  hour  he  kept  the  House  in  a  turmoil. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  243 

He  issued  assignments  to  his  followers  as  if  he 
were  issuing  them  to  his  reporters  in  his  news- 
paper office,  first  to  one  and  then  to  another ; 
only  instead  of  assignments  to  write  ''  stories," 
they  were  assignments  to  offer  amendments, 
make  speeches  or  rise  to  parliamentary  points. 

The  old-line  Democrats  looked  on  silently 
at  the  curious  scene.  The  members  of  ^'  the 
Hearst  brigade "  would  come  over  to  their 
chief  one  after  another  and  get  their  assign- 
ments. Immediately  afterwards  the  man  as- 
signed to  the  work  would  arise  and  throw  a 
new  bomb  into  the  Republican  side.  All  this 
time  the  chief  never  changed  his  position  ex- 
cept once  when  he  walked  around  to  give  an 
assignment  personally  to  Mr.  Livernash — who 
was  formerly  a  reporter  on  Mr.  Hearst's  San 
Francisco  paper.  Throughout  the  fight  un- 
versed and  unsophisticated  tourists  in  the  gal- 
leries never  suspected  that  the  silent  man 
sitting  crouched  in  his  chair  had  anything  to 
do  with  the  fight ;  much  less  that  he  was  the 
head  centre  of  it. 

He  played  on  the  House  like  a  piano,  and 
succeeded  amply  in  his  purpose — to  put  the 
Republicans  on  record  against  the  eight-hour 
bill.  There  was  a  scene  of  confusion  which 
attested  how  thoroughly  the  Republicans  were 
scared,  and  at  last  they  were  forced  to  the 


244  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

expedient  of  depriving  Hearst's  supporter, 
Hughes,  of  the  floor. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  sight.  He  and  his 
handful  of  supporters  were  the  whole  show, 
and  no  debate  so  run  has  ever  been  witnessed 
in  the  house  before.  It  was  unique,  like  all 
the  curiosities  of  the  Hearst  boom.  When  it 
was  over  and  the  eight-hour  bill  beaten, 
Hearst  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
lounged  out.  The  scene  no  longer  interested 
him,  and  when  the  roll-call  came  on  the  pas- 
sage of  the  bill  he  was  absent,  paired  with 
Hepburn.  But  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour 
a  man  who  had  never  uttered  a  word  had 
been  the  dominating  figure  of  the  House. 

After  he  came  to  Washington  the  political 
atmosphere  of  that  town  was  changed.  Ru- 
mors of  money  filled  the  air ;  the  atmosphere 
was  thick  with  the  talk  of  it.  Every  incom- 
ing train  to  this  centre  of  the  nation's  politics 
brought  stories,  whether  true  or  false,  of  some 
new  barrel  tapped  in  some  new  town,  brought 
reports  of  some  new  pay-roll  opened. 

But  believe  the  worst  of  it,  believe  all  of  it, 
and  still  he  mightily  deceives  himself  who 
thinks  the  Hearst  boom  was  all  a  question  of 
money.  The  leaders  of  the  labor  unions  and 
the  old-time  radicals  swarmed  to  Hearst, 
backed   by   moss-backed   country   politicians 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  245 

in  the  southwest  who  knew  of  Hearst  only  as 
the  one  New  York  editor  who  supported 
Bryan  in  1896.  It  was  not  money  with  the 
radicals ;  with  them  it  was  a  fight  for  life,  a 
desperate  struggle  in  the  stronghold,  a  wild 
effort  to  get  out  from  under  the  wheels  of  the 
oncoming  army.  That  decisive  majority 
which  wanted  to  win,  even  at  the  cost  of 
abandoning  the  issues  of  1896  and  1900  or  of 
saying  nothing  about  them,  was  coming  over 
to  fatten  the  slender  ranks  of  the  '^  gold-bug  " 
Democracy  ;  doom  was  written  large  over  the 
radicals ;  in  all  the  land  they  saw  only  one 
banner  waving  which  offered  any  hope  to 
them,  and  it  was  the  banner  of  Hearst ;  and 
they  flocked  to  it. 

The  meeting  of  the  Democratic  National 
Committee  in  Washington  was  a  revelation. 
From  every  part  of  the  land  swarmed  troops 
of  radical  politicians  ;  they  flooded  the  Shore- 
ham's  corridors  and  truculently  read  the  riot 
act  to  the  National  Committee.  They  wanted 
the  convention  held  at  Chicago,  and  their 
demeanor  was  so  Berserkian  and  their  lan- 
guage so  much  in  King  Cambyses'  vein  that 
the  leaders  took  fright. 

''  This  is  the  mob,"  they  said,  "  or  rather 
the  conjunction  of  the  mob  and  the  pay-roll. 
If  it   so   vociferously   swaggers   here   at   the 


246  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

Shoreham,  what  will  it  do  at  the  Chicago 
Convention?  " 

So,  to  save  the  Democratic  Convention  from 
a  too  close  resemblance  to  a  certain  gallery- 
ruled  convention  which  assembled  in  France 
a  century  ago,  they  changed  their  minds  and 
sent  it  to  St.  Louis. 

It  was  a  glimpse  of  the  subterranean  work- 
ings of  the  Hearst  movement,  a  sudden  crop- 
ping of  unsuspected  forces  into  the  light  of 
day,  but  it  was  enough.  The  Hearst  move- 
ment had  not  scared  the  party  leaders — not 
then — but  it  came  out  of  the  caves  and  showed 
its  teeth  at  the  Shoreham,  and  the  leaders 
took  no  chances. 

When,  beaten  at  St.  Louis,  Hearst  came 
back  to  Congress,  he  resumed  his  old  tactics. 
In  the  short  session  of  1905  he  actually  suc- 
ceeded several  times  in  causing  some  embar- 
rassment to  the  Democrats  of  the  House ; 
notably  in  the  case  of  the  railroad  rate  bill. 
Yet  so  far  he  has  accomplished  nothing  seri- 
ous ;  and  as  long  as  the  present  financial  and 
commercial  conditions  endure,  he  will  not 
have  the  slightest  real  effect  on  the  solid  and 
imperturbable  body  of  Democrats  who  sit  in 
the  House  of  Representatives  at  the  right 
hand  of  Speaker  Cannon.  What  hard  times 
might  do  is  another  question. 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  247 

For  timid  ones  whose  hearts  misgive  them 
and  whose  pocketbooks  shrink  at  the  name 
of  Hearst,  there  may  be  comfort  in  the  atti- 
tude of  the  Congress  Democrats.  With  all  its 
fury,  the  Hearst  movement  has  not  even 
dented  the  solid  minority.  The  '^  Hearst  bri- 
gade "  has  never  enrolled  above  a  dozen  men  ; 
and  neither  money,  nor  dash,  nor  the  blud- 
geon and  sledge-hammer  methods  of  Hearst's 
papers  towards  any  one  who  looks  askance  at 
their  chief,  has  moved  that  calm  and  stolid 
mass  one  inch.  The  old  Democratic  warriors 
of  Congress  look  on  the  proceedings  of  the 
dozen  men  of  the  Hearst  brigade  as  seasoned 
old  tomcats,  scratch-faced  veterans  of  many  a 
hard-fought  back-fence,  might  look  on  the 
antics  of  a  litter  of  new-born  kittens  in  the 
sunshine. 


MAESE  SYDNEY  MUDD  AND  HIS  KINGDOM 

One  of  the  most  picturesque  figures  in  Con- 
gress is  a  man  who  in  a  Maryland  district  has 
built  up  an  organization  that  makes  Tammany 
look  like  a  mass-meeting.  It  is  a  strictly  per- 
sonal organization,  but  it  has  all  the  star 
Tammany  features,  with  a  contemporaneous 
human  interest  that  Tammany  sometimes 
lacks.  The  man  is  ''  Marse  Sydney,"  less 
widely  known  as  Representative  Sydney  E. 
Mudd — a  man  who  has  established  a  kingdom 
under  a  republican  form  of  government. 

The  district  takes  in  part  of  Baltimore 
City,  but  for  the  most  part  it  stretches  through 
the  southern  part  of  Maryland  to  the  Potomac, 
a  region  of  old  families,  old  prejudices,  sleepy 
colonialism,  and  the  colored  brother.  The 
man  is  about  the  slickest  politician  in  either 
House  of  Congress,  and  yet  a  man  of  character 
so  forceful  as  to  be  almost  brutal,  were  it  not 
relieved  by  his  abounding  good  humor. 

It  has  been  jokingly  said  in  the  Fifth  Dis- 
trict, "  If  the  opposition  were  to  offer  ten  dol- 
lars a  vote,  the  niggers  w^ould  vote  for  Marse 
Sydney  if  he  only  had  two."     Mudd  himself 

248 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  249 

once  said,  when  the  opposition  threatened  to 
run  a  very  popular  man  against  him,  one  who 
had  barrels  of  money  at  his  command,  *'  I 
hope  they'll  run  him ;  it  will  add  to  the  pros- 
perity of  my  district.  My  people  will  take 
his  money  and  vote  for  me."  Which  was  not 
a  boast,  an  empty  and  vainglorious  brag ; 
Mudd  never  indulges  in  such  things. 

One  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Tammany 
organization  is  that  the  district  leader  takes 
an  interest  in  his  people  all  the  year  round, 
and  looks  out  for  their  comfort  and  welfare 
and  pays  their  fines.  Mudd  has  this  system 
beaten  to  a  standstill.  He  does  all  that  and 
more.  If  a  man  wants  a  job,  Mudd  will  get 
it  for  him  even  if  the  difficulties  in  the  way 
would  overpower  any  ordinary  politician ; 
but  if  the  job  is  absolutely  not  to  be  had, 
Mudd  will  support  the  man  out  of  his  own 
pocket  until  a  job  can  be  found.  Such  are 
his  ideas  of  the  responsibilities  of  an  un- 
crowned king  to  his  subjects. 

He  keeps  the  State  Central  Committee  out 
of  his  district.  He  will  not  allow  the  Repub- 
lican organization  to  enter.  '^  You'd  only 
mix  things  up,"  he  says  to  them  ;  ''  these  peo- 
ple wouldn't  like  your  ways.    Leave  it  to  me." 

Not  long  ago  one  of  his  constituents  came 
to  him  and  asked  him  for  a  consulship.    Mudd 


250  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

looked  at  him  steadily  out  of  his  steely,  cal- 
culating blue  eyes,  and  said,  *'  I  won't  do  it." 

''Why  not?"  demanded  the  constituent. 
"  Haven't  I  done  great  work  for  the  party  ?  " 

''  Yes,"  said  Mudd.  ''  Do  you  suppose  I'd 
send  any  man  out  of  the  country  who  had 
done  good  enough  work  to  deserve  a  consul- 
ship? I've  been  in  Congress  eight  years,  and 
I've  never  expatriated  a  good  worker  j^et. 
No,  sir;  I  need  your  vote." 

The  corridor  of  the  capitol  which  leads  to 
the  file  clerk's  room  is  popularly  known  as 
*'  Mudd  Avenue."  Here  the  constituents  of 
Mudd  line  up  and  wait  for  him,  and  along 
here  he  proceeds,  dealing  out  justice,  awarding 
plums  and  refusing  them.  It  looks  like  an 
ancient  crowd  of  Britons  waiting  to  be  touched 
for  the  king's  evil.  The  wood-box  outside  the 
Republican  exit  from  the  House  has  been  the 
scene  of  many  embryo  conventions.  Here 
Mudd  used  to  sit  when  constituents  came  to 
see  him,  and  lay  his  plans  for  knocking  out 
the  Republican  State  organization  headed  by 
Senator  McComas. 

When  a  new  congressman  comes  here 
Mudd's  favorite  witticism  is  to  tell  the  stran- 
ger that  if  he  is  in  danger  of  stage  fright  when 
he  makes  his  first  speech,  he  can  practice  on 
"  the  mass-meeting  "  assembled  daily  in  Mudd 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  251 

Avenue.  His  reputation  as  a  getter  of  jobs 
has  extended  so  far  that  people  outside  his 
district  come  here  and  try  to  palm  themselves 
off  as  constituents  of  his.  Mudd  claims  that 
he  has  developed  a  sixth  sense  ;  in  ninety- 
nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  he  can  tell  at  a 
glance  whether  a  man  comes  from  his  district 
or  not. 

He  got  a  letter  one  day  from  a  minister 
who  wanted  some  congressional  favor.  ''  I  do 
not  live  in  your  district,  I  must  confess,"  he 
wrote  ;  ''  but  I  hope  to  die  there."  Mudd  wrote 
back  that  he  would  like  to  oblige  his  corre- 
spondent, but  he  always  gave  the  preference 
to  people  whose  residence  in  his  district  began 
before  death. 

Once  Mudd  came  out  of  his  house  at  8:30 
o'clock  in  the  morning  to  get  breakfast  at  a 
hotel.  It  was  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when  he  sat  down  to  his  coffee  and  rolls. 
Allowing  five  minutes  to  an  interview,  one  can 
figure  from  this  how  many  subjects  were  wait- 
ing to  be  touched  for  the  king's  evil  that  day. 

A  Marylander  came  to  Mudd's  house  to  see 
him,  and  at  the  close  of  the  interview  said, 
^'  I  guess  I'll  put  up  here  for  the  night." 

"  I'm  sorry,"  said  Mudd,  "  but  several  of  my 
constituents  got  here  before  you,  and  every 
bed  in  the  house  is  occupied," 


252  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

''  That's  all  right,"  said  the  subject ;  ''  I'll 
sleep  on  the  sofa."     And  he  did. 

But  Mudd  does  not  truckle  to  his  subjects. 
They  know  their  claims  and  their  rights,  but 
they  are  meekly  and  humbly  submissive — at 
least  the  black  ones  are — and  he  cracks  the 
whip  over  them  like  a  feudal  lord.  He  settles 
their  family  disputes  and  orders  them  around 
in  a  fashion  that  the  Black  Douglas  would 
have  envied  and  copied. 

''  I  haven't  any  place  that  I  can  give  you," 
said  Mudd  autocratically  to  an  importunate 
constituent. 

''  Oh,  yes,  you  have,"  replied  the  youth 
confidently.  *'  I  know  you  have.  I  have  a 
brother-in-law  in  the  navy  yard,  who  controls 
fifty  votes,  and  I  think  you'll  find  a  job  for 
me." 

''  Oh  !  "  said  Mudd,  apparently  crestfallen 
and  humble.  "  I  didn't  know  that.  Why 
didn't  you  tell  me  that  at  first?  Who  is 
he?" 

"  His  name  is ,"  replied  the  youth, 

swelling  with  his  conquest  over  the  un- 
crowned king,  and  visibly  adding  to  his  chest 
measurement. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mudd,  and  his  jaws  snapped 
together  and  his  eyes  shot  fire.  ''  That's  his 
name,  eh  ?     Well,  you  go  to  that  damned  idiot 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  253 

and  tell  him  that  if  he  dares  to  open  his  head 
on  any  subject  without  my  permission  on  a 
signed  card,  I'll  have  his  head  off  before  the 
morning." 

If  a  constituent  of  Mudd's  wants  a  job  he  is 
pretty  sure  to  get  it.  If  there  is  no  place  in 
the  government  service,  Mudd  finds  him  one 
somewhere.  He  was  long  on  the  District  of 
Columbia  Committee,  and  the  district  corpora- 
tions are  as  submissive  to  power  as  corporations 
elsewhere.  When  you  ride  on  a  Washington 
trolley-car,  the  conductor  who  rings  up  your 
fare  is  a  Mudd  constituent ;  the  motorman 
who  stops  to  let  you  on  is  from  Mudd's  dis- 
trict, and  the  inspector  who  comes  in  to  look 
at  the  register  is  a  subject  too. 

The  guides  in  the  capitol  are  largely  Mudd 
men.  The  indignation  of  congressmen  has 
been  aroused  because  when  they  go  into  the 
House  restaurant  they  cannot  get  waited  on, 
while  every  waiter  in  the  place  flies  to  Mudd. 
'' Marse  Sydney"  got  them  all  their  jobs. 

When  a  campaign  is  on,  then  Mudd  is  in 
his  glory.  He  gets  on  a  four-horse  wagon, 
with  a  brass  band,  and  dashes  through  the 
district ;  and  the  negroes  come  out  at  the 
sound  of.  the  music  and  watch,  with  admiring 
eyes,  Marse  Sydney  flashing  by.  It  appeals 
to  the  negro  idea  of  pomp  and  glory. 


25i  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

When  a  crowd  collects,  Marse  Sydney  stops 
and  addresses  them,  and  nearly  always  in 
sonorous  terms  upon  the  issues  of  the  day. 
He  talks  of  currency  and  tariff  in  words  high 
above  their  comprehension,  and  the  negroes 
drink  in  every  polysyllabled  word  and  think 
of  Marse  Sydney  as  the  president's  chosen 
confidant.  At  a  barbecue  in  Riverdale,  four 
years  ago,  an  interested  spectator  from  Wash- 
ington saw  a  roasting  ox  surrounded  by  hun- 
dreds of  negroes,  all  wearing  as  medals  little 
disks  of  pasteboard,  with  "  McKinley  and 
Mudd "  written  on  them ;  and  then  Marse 
Sydney  came  out  to  face  the  adoring  gaze  of 
the  populace. 

"  You've  never  had  a  congressman  as  good 
as  I  am !  "  he  thundered  to  the  crowd.  ''  That 
sounds  like  egotism,  but  look  at  the  record. 
Who  was  it  that  kept  the  Naval  Academy 
from  being  taken  away  from  here  and  put 
down  somewhere  on  the  coast  of  Maine?  " 

'^  Mudd  !  "  roared  a  thunderous  chorus. 

"  You're  right  it  was  ;  and  where  would  you 
be  without  the  Naval  Academy  ?  " 

The  Democrats  have  done  everything  im- 
aginable to  oust  Mudd.  They  devised  an 
intricate  ballot,  designed  to  fool  the  illiterate 
blacks.  Nominally  it  was  an  ''  educational 
test "  ballot.     Mudd   opened   schools   for   his 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  255 

negroes,  and  be  opened  them  before  tbe  Demo- 
crats could  open  similar  scbools  for  tbe  wbites. 
Every  night  the  negroes  were  seen  going  to 
tbe  scbools  in  droves.  The  result  was  what 
Mudd  had  anticipated,  from  bis  knowledge  of 
human  nature.  When  it  became  a  recognized 
custom  for  tbe  negroes  to  go  to  school  every 
night,  tbe  illiterate  whites  were  ashamed  to 
follow  their  example,  for  fear  of  being  con- 
founded with  them.  Tbe  result  was  a  heavy 
falling-ofF  in  the  Democratic  vote  and  a  big 
increase  in  Mudd's  plurality. 

Mudd's  school  contained  only  one  depart- 
ment of  instruction.  All  party  emblems  be- 
ing banished  from  the  ballot,  be  showed  his 
pupils  how  to  recognize  the  letter  ''  R "  so 
that  they  could  vote  tbe  Republican  ticket. 
"  You  all  know  what  an  ox-yoke  looks  like, 
don't  you?"  he  demanded.  '^  Well,  look  on 
tbe  printed  words  till  you  see  an  ox-yoke 
with  one  end  hanging  down,"  and  he  drew  a 
large  ^'  R  "  on  the  blackboard.  *'  Make  your 
mark  under  that." 

The  Democrats  undertook  to  overcome  this 
simple  instruction  by  eliminating  all  party 
designations  from  tbe  ballot.  Tbe  words  "  Re- 
publican "  and  ''  Democrat "  have  disappeared. 
Mudd  taught  his  negroes  to  recognize  the 
word  ^^  Mudd  "  if  they  saw  it  printed  among 


256  SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE 

a  million.  Then  the  Democrats  took  to  print- 
ing the  ballot  in  old  English  script,  and  Mudd 
taught  his  faithful  followers  how  to  meet  that 
obstacle.  Finally  the  Democrats  announced 
their  intention  to  run  a  man  named  Samuel  A. 
Mudd  against  him,  as  all  Mudds  would  look 
alike  to  the  colored  brother.  Mudd  concen- 
trated his  attention  upon  teaching  the  negroes 
the  difference  between  the  letters  A  and  E. 

In  1904  he  was  fighting  not  only  the  Demo- 
crats but  the  Republican  organization,  and 
they  had  it  all  framed  up  to  down  him. 
Knowing  that  the  enemy  were  counting  con- 
fidently on  beating  him,  an  acquaintance  said, 
''Mr.  Mudd,  when  do  you  expect  to  be  re- 
nominated? 'V 

"  On  May  3d,"  said  he,  ''  and  at  precisely 
12:20  o'clock,  if  the  convention  meets 
promptly."     He  was. 

To  a  man  who  asked  him  for  a  job,  Mudd 
asked  if  he  were  a  resident  of  the  district. 
''  Not  now,  but  I  was  until  a  month  ago,"  said 
the  applicant. 

''  Young  man,"  said  Mudd,  ''  the  past  tense 
doesn't  go  in  politics." 

There  was  a  story  once  that  Speaker  Reed 
had  charged  the  Maryland  delegation  with 
being  made  up  of  ''  damned  fools  and  damned 
rascals."     "Well,"   said   Mudd,  with   visible 


spYRIGHTtO  1904 


SSi 


SYDNEY    E.    MUDD. 
His  worst  enemy  never  charged  him  with  being  a  hypocrite.' 


SEEN  IN  THE  HOUSE  257 

complacency,  when  he  heard  it,  ''  he  couldn't 
have  meant  me  when  he  said  damned  fools." 

A  curious  thing  about  Mudd's  following  is 
that  it  is  made  up  not  only  of  negroes  but  of 
the  old  and  aristocratic  Maryland  families. 
He  comes  of  an  excellent  family  himself  and 
is  a  man  of  pretty  good  education.  As  speaker 
of  the  Maryland  House  of  Delegates  he  intro- 
duced the  Reed  rules  before  Reed  ever  heard 
of  them,  counting  quorums,  putting  appeals 
only  when  he  chose  and  failing  to  hear  mo- 
tions that  he  did  not  like.  He  told  the  House 
it  was  there  to  do  business,  and  that  it  could 
not  waste  time  on  politics. 

The  Democrats  of  his  district  like  him  as 
well  as  the  Republicans,  and  he  gets  their 
votes.  Once  they  proposed  to  endorse  him, 
but  Mudd  sternly  vetoed  the  project  and 
insisted  on  their  putting  up  a  candidate.  All 
the  Democratic  hostility  to  Mudd  comes  from 
outside  the  district. 

Olive-skinned,  with  wavy  black  hair,  he 
would  be  a  handsome  man  but  for  his  cold 
and  cynical  blue  eyes.  His  w.orst  enemy 
never  charged  him  with  being  a  hypocrite. 
Though  his  domain  is  a  small  one,  he  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  politicians  in  the 
United  States,  and  were  it  larger  he  would  be 
a  man  of  fame.  . 


IV 


THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE 

AVENUE" 


JOHN  HAY 

No  man  in  Washington  was  the  object  of 
more  general  affection  than  John  Hay.  To 
no  man  who  has  lived  there  can  Tennyson's 
phrase  be  applied  more  truly  :  ''  He  bore 
without  abuse  the  grand  old  name  of  gentle- 
man." Could  the  men  who  knew  him  there 
have  the  writing  of  his  epitaph  it  would  be 
that. 

His  death  in  1905  came  as  no  surprise  at 
home.  He  had  never  been  a  well  mati  since 
the  violent  death  of  his  Son  Adelbert  on  June 
23,  1901.  Following  that  shock  came  death 
after  death  in  the  circle  of  his  own  family 
and  friends,  including  the  assassination  of 
President  McKinley,  whom  his  premier  really 
loved.  Within  a  few  months  it  was  common 
gossip  that  the  secretary  of  state  wa&  ageing 
very  fast.  His  old-titlle  kindly  humor  seemed 
forced ;  his  conversatiohial  brilliancy  shone 
with  an  effort,  and  he  became  almost  a  hypo- 
chondriac. 

Long  before  his  deatli  he  counted  himself  a 
d^ad   mail.     His   fHends  believed  that  there 

261 


262  " THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

was  nothing  really  very  serious  the  matter, 
and  held  to  that  belief  long  after  the  secretary 
had  given  up  hope  of  doing  more  than  pro- 
longing his  life  for  a  few  years  or  months.  He 
was  right  and  they  were  wrong. 

In  McKinley's  administration  Mr.  Hay 
fitted  well.  His  quiet  dignity,  his  calmness, 
serenity,  and  gravity  of  j  udgment  were  har- 
monious with  the  general  background.  When 
the  next  administration  came  in  with  its  rush 
and  hustle  and  its  incessant  bustling  activity, 
Mr.  Hay  seemed  for  a  long  time  to  be  out  of 
the  picture.  It  was  freely  predicted  in  those 
days  that  he  would  get  out  of  the  Cabinet,  not 
that  he  did  not  admire  Mr.  Roosevelt,  but  be- 
cause the  atmosphere  of  the  administration 
was  so  different  from  that  to  which  he  had 
been  accustomed. 

The  prophets  were  discomfited.  Despite  the 
antipodal  differences  between  his  character  and 
Mr.  Roosevelt's,  Mr.  Hay  fell  easily  into  the 
same  place  in  the  new  administration  that  he 
had  occupied  in  the  preceding  one,  and 
demonstrated  that  he  had  the  same  place  in 
Mr.  Roosevelt's  confidence  and  respect  that  he 
had  enjoyed  in  Mr.  McKinley's.  The  presi- 
dent had  a  profound  respect  for  Hay's  judg- 
ment, and  at  various  times  there  have  been  re- 
ports  that   the   secretary's   advice  saved    his 


'^  THE  OTHEK  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "   203 

chief  from  serious  errors.  Notable  among 
tliese  instances  was  the  Venezuelan  imbroglio 
with  Great  Britain  and  Germany. 

In  Mr.  Hay's  early  tenure  of  the  secretary- 
ship he  was  bitterly  lampooned  and  savagely 
denounced.  He  was  a  mark  for  the  most  op- 
probrious epithets,  so  much  so  that  careless 
readers  of  newspapers  got  the  idea  that  there 
was  something  scandalous  in  his  retention  in 
the  Cabinet.  In  1900,  when  Mark  Hanna, 
stumping  South  Dakota  for  McKinley,  was 
defending  the  administration,  voices  in  the 
crowd  shouted  as  an  unanswerable  argument : 

"  How  about  Hay  ?  " 

Because  of  this  Mr.  Hay  enjoyed  such  an 
experience  as  has  fallen  to  few  statesman  in 
American  history.  The  recognition  of  his 
great  abilities  and  high  worth  came  almost  sud- 
denly. The  taunts  were  turned  to  tribute,  the 
abuse  to  praise,  and  from  all  over  the  countr}?^ 
there  came  a  swelling  chorus  of  admiration 
and  appreciation  which  accompanied  him 
down  the  last  years  of  his  life  with  no  diminu- 
tion. Rarely  has  it  happened  that  an  Ameri- 
can statesman,  by  no  force  but  the  compel- 
ling one  of  his  own  merit,  has  completely 
silenced  criticism  and  spent  the  most  active 
years  of  his  life  amid  the  unstinted  applause 
of  his  fellow  citizens. 


264  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

He  was  a  sensitive  man,  and,  had  not  this 
wonderful  change  come  when  it  did,  he  would 
probably  not  have  stayed  in  the  Cabinet.  His 
nature,  gentle  despite  its  strength,  shrank  from 
unfair  and  unfounded  criticism.  But  sensi- 
tive as  he  was,  he  was  not  so  sensitive  as  some 
thought  him.  He  suffered  keenly  from  those 
taunts;  and  yet  so  great  was  his  sense  of 
humor  that  even  while  he  writhed,  every- 
thing that  had  any  element  of  fun  or  wit  in 
the  criticism  took  his  fancy.  He  collected  the 
cartoons  that  were  printed  of  him,  getting 
the  originals  from  their  authors  wherever  he 
could,  and  the  best  he  framed  and  hung  in 
the  innumerable  rooms  in  his  big  house  that 
were  devoted  to  pictures  and  books. 

There  is  a  little  room  in  the  beautiful  Hay 
home,  midway  between  the  doorway  and 
Hay's  old  study,  wherein  he  received  casual 
visitors.  It  was  hung  with  pictures,  not  so 
pretentious  as  those  outside  ;  and  among  them, 
for  a  long  time,  was  the  original  of  one  of  the 
cartoons  which  poked  fun  at  him  in  the  days 
before  he  won  his  tribute  of  universal  praise. 
An  over-sensitive  man  would  have  shrunk 
from  having  it  on  view  ;  but  Hay  framed  it 
and  hung  it  up,  not  only  for  the  laughter  of 
his  friends,  but  for  the  mirth  of  visiting 
strangers.     With  the  sudden  revulsion  in  feel- 


< 

■% 

iT.^, 

^ 

JOHN  HAY.      :      A  :    i:;^; '.,;'; 

The  statesman  who  labored  most  effectively  in  these'  days  to 
make  America  great." 


«  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  266 

ing  towards  him  the  cartoons,  too,  changed 
and  became  genial  instead  of  bitter. 

In  the  general  admiration  which  he  com- 
pelled, there  was  always  a  note  of  surprise. 
His  ways  at  last  were  better  known  to  his 
countrymen  than  they  were  when,  in  1900,  he 
first  evinced  a  disposition  to  claim  for  his 
country  a  new  chieftainship  among  the  nations 
of  the  world,  to  be  first  and  topmost  in  a  new 
way  that  was  not  the  way  of  Jefferson  Brick  ; 
but  every  time  he  displayed  it,  it  had  the 
charm  of  novelty,  because  the  swiftness  and 
finality  of  his  proceedings  seemed  so  out  of 
character  in  a  gentleman  who  Avore  such  a 
misleading  aspect  of  gentleness  and  serenity. 

The  Russo-Japanese  war  was  exceedingly 
young,  and  the  doddering  chancelleries  across 
the  water  had  only  begun  to  work  themselves 
up  to  the  point  of  thinking  it  might  be  well 
not  to  have  the  war  get  into  China,  when  Mr. 
Hay,  in  his  accustomed  way,  stepped  to  the 
front  and  drew  a  line  around  China,  within 
which  hostilities  should  not  enter.  He  did  it 
after  his  familiar  precedent  of  drawing  up  a 
note  to  which  everybody  would  assent,  but 
which  nobody  else  was  anywhere  near  draw- 
ing up. 

He  was  also  two  weeks  ahead  of  anybody 
else  in  extracting  from  China  the  assurances  Of 


266  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE " 

neutrality  that  so  comforted  Russia's  guilty 
conscience,  exacerbated  as  it  was  by  the  pres- 
ence of  that  Chinese  army  on  Kuropatkin's 
flank. 

Mr.  Hay's  international  primacy  was  always 
based  on  the  fact  that  he  worked  while  they 
slept.  Every  international  triumph  of  his,  to 
the  very  last,  came  with  a  little  shock  of  sur- 
prise, because  these  triumphs  seemed  to  belong 
to  a  more  strenuous  exterior  and  a  more 
tooth-gnashing  aspect ;  and  yet  since  1900  the 
American  public  had  become  tolerably  used 
to  these  things. 

In  the  presence  of  that  sudden  awakening 
of  long-dormant  and  terrifying  forces  in  1900, 
when  the  ancient  world  suddenly  awoke  to 
life  in  China  and  confronted  modern  civiliza- 
tion, the  nations  of  the  globe  were  taken  by 
surprise,  and  stood  irresolute,  hesitating,  wait- 
ing for  a  leader.  The  foreign  offices  were  in  a 
helpless  panic  ;  the  rules  for  dealing  with  such 
convulsions  were  not  laid  down  in  their  little 
books. 

Mr.  Hay  took  the  lead,  without  hesitating  a 
moment,  and  the  nations  of  the  world,  rec- 
ognizing the  hand  of  a  master,  fell  in  and 
followed.  In  every  step  of  that  crisis  his  was 
the  initiative,  and  the  "  allied  powers  "  were 
his  regiment.     With  sure  step  he  strode  amid 


"  THE  OTHEK  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  267 

the  perils  of  that  uprising,  and  what  with 
weak  or  ignorant  handling  might  have  turned 
into  a  world-cataclysm,  the  conflict  of  antiq- 
uity with  modernity  on  a  scale  vaster  than 
the  fall  of  Rome,  subsided  into  the  record  of 
a  Boxer  riot  and  a  punitive  expedition. 

Common  sense  and  that  out-of-character 
strenuousness  were  the  guiding  principles, 
when,  after  thus  leading  the  world  for  three 
months,  Hay  opened  communication  with  the 
beleaguered  legations  in  the  face  of  jeering 
and  incredulous  Europe;  when  he  forced  their 
relief  after  Europe  had  given  up  all  idea  of 
advancing  on  Peking  till  fall ;  and  having 
thus  averted  the  massacre  and  saved  China 
from  crime  and  the  world  from  a  tragedy,  he 
stepped  in  between  the  fallen  old  Empire  and 
the  wolves  and  saved  China  from  a  tragedy 
and  Europe  from  a  crime. 

In  William  Vaughn  Moody's  poem,  "The 
Quarry,"  he  imagines  China  as  a  sacred  ele- 
phant, decrepit  with  age,  fleeing  from  pur- 
suers. And  thus  he  tells  the  figure  the 
American  eagle  played  : 

"Panting,  foaming,  on  the  slot 
Came  many  brutes  of  prey,  their  several  hates 
Laid  by  until  the  sharing  of  the  spoil. 
Just  as  they  gathered  stomach  for  the  leap. 
The  sun  was  darkened;,  and  wide-balanced  wings 


2GS   " THE  OTHER  EXD  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

Beat  downward  ou  the  trade-wind  from  the  sea. 

A  wheel  of  shadow  sped  along  the  fields 

And  o'  er  the  dreaming  cities.     Suddenly 

My  heart  misgave  me,  and  I  cried  aloud, 

^Alas!     What   dost   thou   here?     What  dost  thou 

here?' 
The  great  beasts  and  the  little  halted  sharp, 
Eyed  the  grand  circler,  doubting  his  intent. 
Straightway  the  wind  flawed  and  he  came  about. 
Stooping  to  take  the  vanward  of  the  pack  ; 
Then  turned,  between  the  chasers  and  the  chased, 
Crying  a  word  I  could  not  understand  — 
But  stiller-tongued,  with  eyes  somewhat  askance, 
They  settled  to  the  slot  and  disappeared." 

That  was  the  beginning,  and  it  was  what 
brought  the  change  from  jeers  to  applause. 
That  Chinese  crisis  Avas  one  long  series  of  tri- 
umphs. The  first  general  recognition  of  it 
was  when  he  insisted  on  opening  communica- 
tion with  the  beleaguered  legations  at  Peking 
in  the  face  of  Great  Britain's  assurances  that 
it  was  no  use  because  the  besieged  were  all 
dead.  There  was  almost  a  tone  of  resentment 
in  the  British  comments,  for  a  memorial  meet- 
ing had  been  arranged  in  London  for  the  de- 
ceased, and  it  went  against  the  British  grain 
to  have  to  accept  the  entirely  new  idea  that 
the  deceased  were  still  alive.  But  aside  from 
this  barely  perceptible  note  of  protest,  there 
was  no  dissent  from  the  universal  tx4bute 
which  greeted  this  beginning. 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''   269 

And  yet  it  was  not  a  beginning  ;  for  from 
the  earliest  days  of  the  disturbances  Hay  had 
been  assuming  the  international  primacy  in 
the  same  way.  It  took  a  spectacular  event 
like  the  relief  of  the  legations,  however,  to 
impress  the  fact  upon  the  general  mind.  Of 
those  earlier  days,  when  he  was  still  assuming 
this  primacy,  but  before  it  had  been  generally 
recognized,  and  before  yet  the  chorus  of  defa- 
mation had  died  away,  the  writer  published  a 
sketch  in  The  New  York  Times  of  that  day.  It 
is  reprinted  here,  as  a  picture  of  the  beginnings 
of  Hay's  greatness,  and  because  of  a  certain 
personal  satisfaction  in  the  way  it  ''  came 
true  " : 

"  Mr.  Secretary,  there  is  a  charge  in  this 
morning's  Daily  So-and-So " 

''  Yes,"  interrupted  the  Hon.  John  Hay, 
energetically,  ''  and  there  will  be  a  charge  in 
the  Daily  So-and-So  every  day  from  now  until 
election,  and  you  will  get  the  first  news  of  the 
scandal  if  you  will  be  alert  and  get  an  early 
copy  of  the  paper." 

This  conversation  is  an  extract  from  one  of 
the  regular  daily  seances  which  the  newspaper 
correspondents  hold  with  the  secretary  of  state 
in  his  office  in  the  big  white  building  on 
Seventeenth  Street.  It  is  memorable  as  being 
perhaps  the  only  instance  in  which  the  genial, 
courteous  head  of  the  nation's  foreign  affairs 


270  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

ever  gave  evidence  that  he  was  aware  of  the 
malignant  and  unreasonable  attacks  which  are 
being  made  upon  him  in  some  newspapers 
every  day. 

Assailed,  caricatured,  ridiculed,  and  slan- 
dered as  he  is,  the  secretary  of  state  seldom 
gives  any  indication  of  being  ruffled.  He  is 
always  the  personification  of  courtesy  and 
kindness  to  newspaper  men,  and  is  invariably 
ready  to  assist"  them  to  a  correct  understand- 
ing of  what  is  going  on.  Another  Cabinet 
officer,  who  has  been  better  treated  by  the 
newspapers  than  any  other  member  of  the  ad- 
ministration, is  the  only  one  who  makes  a 
habit  of  sneering  at  them  and  appearing  to 
consider  himself  injured  by  what  they  print. 
With  few  exceptions,  the  newspapers  have 
treated  this  gentleman  with  the  greatest  re- 
spect and  fairness  ever  since  he  took  office ; 
yet  he  rarely  speaks  of  them  without  a  sar- 
casm. Mr.  Hay,  who  has  ground,  if  anybody 
has,  to  complain  of  misrepresentation  and  un- 
reasonable vilification  at  the  hands  of  some  of 
them,  never  utters  a  word  against  them  as  a 
class. 

This  is  in  line  with  Mr.  Hay's  deportment 
in  everything.  He  is  a  quiet,  reserved  man, 
who  makes  no  attempt  to  blow  his  own  trumpet 
even  when  he  has  accomplished  something  of 
national  importance.  There  are  plenty  of 
officials  who  never  do  anything  without 
spreading  it  abroad  with  a  mighty  blare  of 
the  personal  bugle.  Mr.  Hay  simply  attends 
to  business,  and  never  gives  any  indication 


k 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''   271 

that  he  has  accomplished  anything  worth 
mentioning.  Always  ready  to  give  informa- 
tion when  it  is  not  incompatible  with  the 
interests  of  the  government,  his  own  achieve- 
ments are  the  things  on  which  he  is  most  re- 
served, and  a  national  triumph  is  quite  likely 
to  be  among  the  things  extorted  from  him  by 
persistent  questioning,  among  a  lot  of  minor 
details. 

It  is  due  to  the  newspaper  men,  and  not  to 
Secretary  Hay,  that  the  country  has  learned 
promptly  of  his  success  in  many  great  affairs 
of  state.  Accustomed  to  disentangle  the  im- 
portant from  the  mass  of  unimportant,  they 
have  again  and  again  seized  on  real  triumphs 
of  the  State  Department  and  made  them 
known,  without  any  effort  on  the  part  of  the 
secretary.  His  friends  say  that  he  is  a  man 
who  likes  to  have  his  work  appreciated,  but 
he  never  gives  any  indication  of  it  to  the 
newspaper  correspondents  with  whom  he  is  in 
daily  contact.  He  continually  gives  the  im- 
pression of  a  man  who  is  so  absorbed  in  doing 
his  duty  as  best  he  knows  how  that  he  has  not 
taken  the  time  to  think  how  it  will  strike  the 
people  or  what  measure  of  approbation  it  will 
bring  to  him.  To  the  newspaper  men,  who 
have  perhaps  better  opportunities  of  judging 
him  than  come  to  most  persons,  it  seems  that 
in  this  great  crisis,  in  which  a  third  of  the 
world  is  arrayed  against  the  rest,  the  interests 
of  the  United  States  are  in  the  hands  of  a 
modest,  self-reliant  but  not  self-seeking  gentle- 
man; whose  head  is  always  cool,  whose  judg- 


272  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

ment  is  always  clear,  and  who  holds  the  helm 
quietly  and  firmly  with  the  hand  of  a  master. 

Less  has  been  written  about  the  secretary 
of  state  than  about  any  of  the  other  members 
of  the  Cabinet.  No  secretary  of  state  in  re- 
cent years  has  been  less  known  to  the  public. 
The  personalities  of  Root,  Long,  Gage  and 
Smith  are  as  familiar  to  the  public  as  those  of 
any  other  statesmen  or  politicians  in  the 
country.  But  the  State  Department  runs  so 
quietly  under  the  hand  of  Hay  that  no  one 
remembers  or  thinks  of  noticing  the  silent  en- 
gineer. With  every  new  achievement  of  the 
State  Department,  quietly  made  and  modestly 
recorded,  some  newspaper  editor  seizes  upon 
it  and  records  with  surprise  that  this  is  indeed 
a  triumph.  It  always  comes  with  a  little 
shock  of  surprise,  because  it  is  hard  to  asso- 
ciate the  idea  of  these  triumphs  with  the  quiet, 
silent  man  who  seems  fairly  hidden  from  pub- 
lic view  behind  a  pile  of  hard  work  in  the 
State  Department. 

A  few  years  ago  it  would  have  been  regarded 
as  a  matter  of  momentous  historical  importance 
that,  in  a  great  world-wide  crisis,  the  United 
States,  a  newcomer  in  the  family  of  nations, 
should  have  stepped  in  and  directed  the  policy 
of  the  whole  world.  But  that  is  practically 
what  the  United  States,  under  Mr.  Hay's  lead, 
has  done.  The  nations  of  the  world,  all 
guided  by  famous  statesmen  with  established 
reputations,  were  taken  by  surprise  by  the 
Chinese  crisis,  and  halted,  irresolutely  wait- 
ing for  a  leader.     In  that  emergency  the  leader 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  21'. 

was  found.  He  was  the  quiet  gentleman  in 
Washington,  with  no  reputation  as  a  famous 
statesman.  He  did  not  announce  himself  as 
the  leader  of  the  nations  nor  make  any  blare 
of  trumpets.  He  simply  stepped  in,  in  the 
same  grave,  quiet  fashion  in  which  he  has 
directed  every  matter  confided  to  his  charge, 
and  the  nations  recognized  instinctively  that 
a  man  of  power  had  come.  They  have  fol- 
lowed him  like  lambs  ever  since. 

This  would  have  been  regarded  as  a  tre- 
mendous event  a  few  years  ago.  Perhaps  it 
would  have  attracted  universal  attention  and 
aroused  universal  admiration  as  such  now,  if 
the  secretary  of  state  had  had  any  genius  or 
liking  for  self-advertisement.  But  he  had 
not.  When  the  reporters,  having  gathered 
enough  elsewhere  to  convince  them  that  such 
was  the  case,  went  to  the  secretary  and  asked 
him  if  it  was  not  true  that  the  United  States 
had  formulated  the  policy  of  the  world  in  a 
certain  important  detail  of  the  Chinese  crisis, 
the  secretary  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then 
gravely  and  deprecatingly  replied  : 

"  Well,  perhaps  we  were  the  first  to  take 
that  attitude." 

Since  then  the  correspondents  have  seen 
every  new  phase  of  the  Chinese  crisis  unfold, 
with  the  United  States  taking  the  lead  and 
directing  the  Cabinets  of  the  world  in  every 
one,  and  the  conviction  is  growing  that  the 
solution  of  the  great  problem  now  upon  the 
age  will  in  the  end  depend  more  upon  John 
Hay  than  upon  any  other  man  in  the  world. 


274  "THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

He  created  a  new  diplomacy,  the  diplomacy 
of  blunt  candor,  good  faith  and  doing  things. 
It  has  been  the  tradition  of  diplomacy  that 
everything  is  an  insoluble  problem,  and  must 
be  approached  with  caution.  Such  was  her 
attitude  towards  Roumania's  treatment  of  the 
Jews.  Hay  simply  walked  up  to  the  door  of 
that  insoluble  problem  and  knocked.  He  ap- 
pealed to  Roumania  to  be  decent.  Not  being 
a  European  premier,  he  could  do  no  more ; 
but  it  was  a  finger-post  to  Europe  which  the 
Foreign  Offices  might  have  followed,  and  it 
showed  how  the  insoluble  problem  would 
have  been  approached  had  Roumania  been  on 
this  continent  or  Hay  in  Downing  Street. 
And  it  succeeded. 

In  China  he  said,  "  Trust  the  Chinese,"  and 
though  Europe  laughed,  it  turned  out  to  be 
the  way  to  solve  the  problem.  In  Venezuela 
he  stepped  in  between  South  America  and  the 
European  powers  and  sent  them  to  the  court 
of  arbitration,  and  at  the  same  time  he  saved 
this  country  from  the  blunder  of  arbitrating 
between  Venezuela  and  the  powers. 

A  score  of  triumphs  dot  his  path.  There 
have  been  some  secretaries  of  state  who  were 
greater  in  other  ways,  such  as  Blaine  and 
Seward  and  Webster ;  but,  looking  solely  at 
his    record,   it   would    be   hard   to   find   one 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  275 

who  has  been  greater  simply  as  secretary  of 
state. 

A  short  man,  extraordinarily  punctilious  in 
dress,  with  an  attentively  combed  beard,  a 
pleasant  manner,  an  attractive  face,  and  a  voice 
of  singular  precision  and  sibilance  ;  a  man  of 
aristocratic  tastes  and  ways,  and  democratic 
manners  and  language ;  a  man  who  could  use 
slang  efficiently  in  private  conversation  when 
there  was  need  for  it  and  who  wielded  the 
English  language  like  a  musical  instrument 
in  his  public  utterances,  and  who  always  wore 
evening  dress  in  his  own  house  after  six 
o'clock — that  was  the  outward  man  of  the 
secretary  of  state  who  has  done  more  to  make 
America  truly  great  among  the  nations  of  the 
earth  than  all  the  spread-eagle  orators  from 
the  time  of  Martin  Chuzzlewit  to  the  era  of 
Albert  J.  Beveridge. 

The  impression  was  abroad  that  Hay  was  an 
aristocrat.  In  his  tastes  he  was,  but  not  in  his 
manners.  He  was  democratic,  affable,  though 
always  dignified.  He  sometimes,  when  talk- 
ing to  one  he  could  trust,  discussed  great  in- 
ternational questions  in  pungent  idioms  and 
with  a  Yankee  rough-and-readiness  that  was 
proof  positive  of  his  authorship  of  "  Pike 
County  Ballads." 

That  sense  of  humor  of  his,  evident  in  his 


276   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

writings,  was  as  sunshiny  and  abundant  as 
was  that  of  his  old  chief,  Abraham  Lincoln. 
Epigrams  and  witticisms  bubbled  from  him  in 
the  most  casual  conversation,  and  his  fund  of 
stories  was  equal  to  any  draft.  His  stories 
were  very  short,  usually  only  a  few  sentences 
long,  and  invariably  fitted  the  case  in  point  as 
if  made  for  it. 

He  was  not  a  man  who  could  be  slapped  on 
the  back,  even  in  a  figurative  sense.  The 
rough  democracy  of  American  public  life 
seemed  to  have  found  a  partial  exception  in 
him.  And  yet,  by  a  paradox,  he  was  more 
really  approachable,  easier  to  get  at  and  to  be- 
come confidential  with,  than  most  of  the  men 
who  can  be  slapped  on  the  back. 

His  dainty  precision  of  speech,  his  air  of 
being  always  the  gentleman,  his  lack  of  rough 
bonhomie,  account  for  one  feature  of  this  para- 
dox. His  good  nature,  his  bubbling  humor 
and  glittering  wit,  and  his  command  at  need 
of  the  great  American  slang  habit  may  par- 
tially explain  the  other.  Often  has  the  writer 
heard  Mr.  Hay  discuss  great  international 
questions  with  an  idiomatic  fluency  that 
would  have  given  points  to  George  Ade,  and 
yet  in  such  a  manner  that  his  dignity  did  not 
suffer  the  slightest  damage. 

His  relations  with  newspaper  men  were  il- 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE "  277 

lustrative  of  his  character.  The  questions 
before  his  department  were  the  gravest  and 
most  delicate  that  come  before  any.  Inter- 
national consequences  of  a  serious  character 
might  follow  any  slip.  Some  previous  secre- 
taries of  state — notably  one  who  is  famous 
for  a  rough  manner  that  seems  more  democra- 
tic than  Mr.  Hay's  dainty  dignity — had  made 
it  as  difficult  as  possible  for  the  correspondents 
here  to  get  news. 

Mr.  Hay  treated  them  with  the  utmost  con- 
fidence, and  did  so  in  the  most  natural  man- 
ner, as  if  no  other  course  could  possibly  have 
entered  his  head.  He  had  not  the  least  hesi- 
tation in  discussing  any  international  ques- 
tion with  a  newspaper  man  whom  he  knew, 
and  would  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  say  : 
''  Don't  quote  me."  He  relied  on  his  inter- 
viewer's honor  not  to  do  so,  and  to  write  the 
dispatch  in  such  a  way  as  to  cause  him  no  em- 
barrassment. 

Never  once,  in  all  the  six  and  a  half  years 
of  his  career  as  secretary,  had  he  any  reason 
to  regret  this  confidence.  Yet  his  communi- 
cations to  newspaper  men  were  of  the  most 
open  and  free-handed  sort.  He  would  usually 
tell  a  new  man,  on  first  meeting,  that,  in  what 
he  said,  the  correspondent  must  not  quote  him 
and  must  use  judgment  about  the  way  the 


278  "THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

matter  was  written.  Having  done  that,  Mr. 
Hay  would  not  make  any  further  admonition 
in  the  years  that  followed. 

As  they  used  to  say  he  was  an  aristocrat,  so 
they  used  to  say  that  Hay  was  ashamed  of 
"  Jim  Bludso  "  and  ''  Little  Breeches  "  and 
"  Banty  Tim,"  and  did  not  like  to  be  reminded 
of  them.  But  this  snobbish  story  was  not  true ; 
for  on  the  wall,  at  the  very  door  of  his  house, 
where  no  one  could  help  seeing  it,  there  hung 
until  shortly  before  his  death  a  fine  painting 
of  Jim  Bludso  ''  holding  her  nozzle  agin  the 
bank  till  the  last  galoot's  ashore." 

It  is  probable,  of  course,  that  Hay  looked 
with  more  pride  upon  his  more  pretentious 
works,  such  as  his  life  of  Lincoln,  whose 
secretary  he  was.  It  would  be  interesting  to 
know  how  much  he  wrote  anonymously.  It 
is  nearly  certain  that  he  wrote  ''  The  Bread- 
winners," the  publishers  of  which  announced 
at  the  time  that  the  author's  name  could  not 
be  revealed  because  it  would  injure  him  in  his 
public  career  if  it  were  known  that  he  had 
written  such  a  book.  Hay  always  steered 
clear  of  questions  about  "  The  Breadwin- 
ners." 

His  mastery  of  English  was  as  great  as  that 
of  any  man  of  his  time.  In  his  hands  the 
language  was  a  musical  instrument.     In  his 


" THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  279 

great  oration  upon  McKinley,  delivered  before 
Congress,  he  said  : 

''  It  is  impossible  to  speak  of  William 
McKinley  without  remembering  that  no  truer, 
tenderer  knight  to  his  chosen  lady  ever  lived 
among  mortal  men.  If  to  the  spirits  of  the 
just  made  perfect  is  permitted  the  conscious- 
ness of  earthly  things,  we  may  be  sure  that  his 
faithful  soul  is  now  watching  over  that  gentle 
sufferer  who  counts  the  long  hours  over  in 
their  shattered  home  in  the  desolate  splendor 
of  his  fame." 

As  he  first  uttered  this  matchless  phrase,  it 
was,  ^^  Who  counts  the  long  hours  over  in  the 
desolate  splendor  of  his  fame."  Whether  the 
additional  phrase  was  left  out  by  accident  or 
not,  and  either  with  or  without  it,  it  is  a 
beautiful  instance  of  the  felicitous  wedding 
of  words  to  sense.  The  whole  address 
abounded  with  magnificent  phrases,  as  when, 
speaking  of  the  hideous  uselessness  of  the 
murders  of  Lincoln,  Garfield  and  McKinley, 
men  who  ''  walked  before  God  and  man  with- 
out blame,"  he  said  :  "  The  only  temptation 
to  attack  their  lives  was  their  gentle  radiance 
— to  eyes  hating  the  light  that  was  offense 
enough." 

To  illustrate,  not  his  greater  works  but  his 
musical    use   of    the   language,   that  simple 


280  ''THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

poem,  ''  When  the  Boj^s  Come  Home,"  should 
be  read.  It  has  often  been  set  to  music,  but 
the  setting  has  always  been  a  failure,  because 
it  is  already  music ;  it  sings  itself.  The  effect 
produced  is  made  by  a  perfect  choice  of  words 
and  syllables  and  still  more  by  an  artistically- 
employed  and  carefully-placed  un evenness  of 
rhythm;  and  he  made  a  song  which  must 
have  made  eyelids  quiver  and  hearts  throb  in 
the  days  when  men  were  looking  to  the  South 
with  straining  eyes,  and  women  with  fainting 
hearts. 

He  had  a  genius  for  hard  work,  and  could 
dispose  of  immense  quantities  of  it  with 
lightning  rapidity.  This  gift  was  especially 
valuable  after  his  health  began  to  fail,  for 
often  he  could  stay  at  the  department  only  an 
hour  or  two  a  day,  w^ith  perhaps  a  day's  or  a 
week's  intermission. 

He  paid  the  strictest  attention  to  the  nice- 
ties of  life.  Evening  never  caught  him  in  day 
dress.  If  he  intended  to  devote  the  evening 
to  delving  among  papers  in  his  library,  work- 
ing on  department  matters,  he  nevertheless 
would  attire  himself  in  evening  dress  and 
omit  no  detail. 

Precise,  dignified,  and  correct  in  all  his 
ways,  he  was  a  man  of  strong  feeling  and 
could  manifest  it  in  a  way  that  frightened  men 


<'  THE  OTHEE  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "   281 

apparently  much  less  reserved.  The  times 
have  been  when  Mr.  Hay,  on  learning  of  some 
act  of  treachery  or  incompetency  in  the  State 
Department  service,  has  walked  up  and  down 
his  room  in  the  big  building  giving  utterance 
to  his  opinions  in  a  way  that  made  his  hearers 
quake.  Yet  never  in  public  would  he  permit 
himself  to  be  unmanned. 

When  his  son  Adelbert  was  killed  by  a  fall 
from  a  hotel  window  in  New  Haven,  the  news 
was  brought  to  the  father  by  a  newspaper  man 
at  3:30  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  secretary 
received  his  caller  in  his  bedroom,  and  the 
news  was  broken  to  him  as  gently  as  possible. 
At  the  end  of  the  sentence  Mr.  Hay  gave  a 
sigh  and  dropped  his  head.  He  buried  his 
face  in  his  hands.  The  next  moment  he  had 
regained  his  outward  self-command.  In  a 
grave,  calm  voice  he  thanked  his  informant 
for  his  trouble  in  bringing  the  news,  and  left 
the  expression  of  his  real  emotions  until  he 
should  be  alone. 

On  the  night  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Hay's 
loved  friend.  President  McKinley,  the  writer 
went  to  Mr.  Hay's  house  to  ask  him  if  he  had 
any  news.  Mr.  Hay,  in  evening  dress,  was 
sitting  in  his  study.  Books  and  papers  were 
on  his  table,  but  he  was  not  reading  them. 
He   spoke   in   a  serious,   steady,   self-assured 


282  " THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

voice  as  he  told  the  caller  that  according  to  his 
advices  from  Buffalo  the  president  was  still 
alive.  He  seemed  absolute  master  of  himself, 
and  his  utterance  was  made  in  the  most  mat- 
ter-of-fact way. 

But  he  was  sitting  behind  a  shaded  lamp, 
in  such  a  way  that  his  face  was  in  shadow. 
As  the  visitor  reached  the  study  door,  he 
turned  to  bid  Mr.  Hay  good-night,  and  in  this 
new  position  he  caught  the  light  on  the  secre- 
tary's countenance.  Tears  were  rolling  down 
that  steady  face. 

John  Hay,  poet,  statesman,  and  gentleman. 
He  should  go  into  history  as  the  statesman 
who  labored  most  effectively  in  these  days  to 
make  America  great ;  not  with  the  greatness 
of  strength  and  raw  force  from  which  Euro- 
pean nations  should  shrink,  but  with  that 
greatness  which  made  Europe  take  our  coun- 
sel, respect  our  leadership,  and  recognize  us  as 
in  truth  a  wise,  able  and  honest  marshal  of 
the  world's  affairs. 


II 

INTERVIEWING  SECEETARY  ROOT 

When  Elihu  Root  became  secretary  of  state 
he  entered  upon  his  official  duties  in  a  way 
which  startled  the  mossbacks  of  the  depart- 
ment. The  thoroughness  with  which  he  went 
to  work  was  without  precedent  in  his  office. 
Instead  of  taking  the  words  of  subordinates 
or  taking  anything  for  granted,  he  insisted 
upon  informing  himself  of  the  entire  history 
from  A  to  Z  of  everything  that  was  likely  to 
come  before  him  in  any  way  whatever. 

Every  afternoon  as  early  as  possible  the 
secretary  would  cut  short  the  business  of  the 
day,  deny  himself  to  visitors,  order  that  no 
cards  be  sent  him,  leave  his  office  and  lock 
himself  in  the  diplomatic  room,  where  he 
buried  himself  in  the  records  of  cases.  A 
force  of  messengers  and  clerks  was  kept  busy 
bringing  documents  to  him.  Meanwhile 
swarms  of  visitors,  including  many  of  high 
degree,  tried  vainly  to  induce  the  messengers 
to  take  their  cards  in. 

Here  he  stayed  till  six  or  seven  o'clock 
283 


284  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

every  evening,  working  hard.  The  startled 
cler'ks  came  to  the  conclusion  that  by  the  time 
he  finished  these  preliminary  studies,  at  the 
rate  he  was  going,  he  would  know  more  about 
all  matters  of  current  diplomacy  and  all  that 
had  any  chance  of  becoming  current  than  any 
man,  from  secretary  to  messenger,  who  ever 
stepped  foot  in  the  department. 

That  standby  of  all  executive  departments, 
the  ^*  veteran  clerk  who  has  the  business  of 
the  department  at  his  finger-ends,"  is  finding 
his  usefulness  gone,  because  the  secretary  is 
rapidly  getting  to  know  more  than  he  does. 
The  labor  of  acquainting  himself  in  a  few 
weeks  with  the  entire  machinery  and  all  the 
problems  of  the  State  Department  and  of 
American  and  foreign  diplomacy  and  states- 
manship is  great,  but  Mr.  Root's  tremendous 
capacity  for  work  is  making  it  possible  for 
him  to  do  it  in  less  time  than  it  would  take 
almost  any  one  else.  His  manner  of  doing  it 
has  dismayed  some  of  his  subordinates,  de- 
lighted others,  and  astonished  all. 

As  an  example  of  the  way  he  went  at  it, 
the  Critchfield  case  will  serve  as  well  as  any 
one.  Ploughing  through  the  records  of  the 
department,  the  secretary  discovered  a  claim 
made  by  George  Washington  Critchfield,  of 
New   York,   against   Venezuela.      Critchfield 


" THE  OTHEK  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  285 

years  ago  obtained  from  President  Castro  an 
asphalt  mine,  with  the  express  agreement  that 
no  tax  should  be  placed  upon  his  exports. 
He  developed  the  mine  to  a  point  where  it 
looked  good  to  Castro,  whereupon  that  cheer- 
ful freebooter  levied  a  prohibitive  tax.  Critch- 
field  had  to  go  out  of  business,  which  left  a 
nicely-developed  mine  for  the  Venezuelan 
government's  use  and  profit — or  in  other 
words,  for  the  use  and  profit  of  Castro. 

At  least,  this  is  Critch field's  story.  He 
made  a  claim  against  Castro  for  heavy  dam- 
ages. That  was  in  1903,  since  which  time  the 
claim  has  slumbered  peacefully  in  the  State 
Department,  "  crowded  out  to  make  room  for 
more  important  matter."  Root  ran  across 
this  claim,  ordered  that  the  papers  be  pre- 
sented to  him,  and  found  that  some  of  the 
papers  were  missing.  That  did  not  discourage 
Root.  He  telegraphed  for  Critchfield  to  come 
and  see  *him.  Critchfield,  panoplied  with  at- 
torneys, arrived  and  found  Root  delving  in  a 
mountain  of  manuscript  relating  to  Morocco 
or  Chile  or  some  other  remote  clime.  Root 
laid  the  mountain  aside  and  listened  to  Critch- 
field for  a  whole  day.  He  had  to  break  in 
once  to  go  to  a  Cabinet  meeting,  but  Critch- 
field walked  around  the  block  a  few  times 
while  this  was  going  on  and  then  returned  to 


286  "THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

the  conference.  At  the  end  thereof  Root  an- 
nounced that  he  would  telegraph  Minister 
Russell  at  Caracas  to  take  up  the  matter  with 
Castro  and  push  the  claim  vigorously.  Which, 
with  Root,  meant  that  Castro  must  sit  up  and 
listen. 

Mr.  Root's  idiosyncrasies  in  the  matter  of 
shutting  himself  up  and  receiving  no  cards 
have  given  great  scandal  to  self-important  per- 
sons, but  he  is  beyond  reform  in  that  respect. 
He  used  to  exhibit  them  as  flagrantly  when  he 
was  secretary  of  war.  For  a  year  or  so,  while 
he  held  that  office,  he  put  up  with  the  con- 
sumption of  his  time  by  calls  from  outsiders 
(congressmen  included)  and  then  set  about 
devising  a  highly  novel  remedy.  An  hour 
before  the  time  for  closing  the  department  the 
doors  leading  to  his  office  were  shut  and 
locked.  This  did  not  mean  that  the  office 
was  closed ;  on  the  contrary,  work  was  going 
on  as  busily  as  ever.  Inside  the  main  room 
of  the  office  were  three  or  four  sturdy  colored 
men,  who  remained  behind  the  locked  doors 
to  let  out  people  who  were  in  before  the  place 
was  closed  up,  and  to  see  that  nobody  slipped 
in.  All  through  the  rest  of  the  big  depart- 
ment building  there  was  every  sign  of  life ; 
doors  were  swinging  open,  and  clerks  were 
constantly  passing  in  and  out,  typewriters  were 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AA^ENUE  "   287 

clicking,  and  messengers  were  bustling  about. 
Only  the  doors  leading  to  Mr.  Root's  sanctum 
were  locked  and  guarded,  and  there  a  stranger 
could  see  no  sign  of  life. 

But  there  were  persons  who  had  the  right 
to  see  the  secretary,  such  as  the  chief  clerk. 
It  was  no  use  for  them  to  knock,  because  the 
colored  sentries  within  would  pay  no  atten- 
tion. Accordingly  a  cipher  knock  was  in- 
vented. When  this  knock  was  heard,  one  of 
the  garrison  approached  the  door,  but  did  not 
open  it.  Some  lurking  congressman  or  other 
non-departmental  person  might,  by  dint  of 
hanging  around  the  door  and  listening  for 
some  time,  have  acquired  the  secret  of  the 
code  and,  after  committing  it  to  memory, 
have  delivered  an  imitation  which  would  have 
deceived  the  very  elect.  Hence  the  sentinel 
delivered  on  the  inside  of  the  door  another 
cipher  knock,  which  meant,  '*  Advance,  friend, 
with  the  countersign."  Then  if  the  person 
outside  was  really  one  of  the  initiated,  he 
''  came  back  "  with  the  next  number  on  the 
code,  which  was  the  countersign.  Thereupon 
the  door  was  unlocked  for  him. 

Secretary  Hay  once  retired  baffled  from  the 
unanswering  door,  and  had  to  take  private 
lessons  in  the  knock.  After  awhile  the  door 
was  locked  at  two  o'clock  instead  of  three, 


288   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

after  which  the  casualties  were  even  greater 
than  before.  One  day  in  1901,  however,  Sen- 
ator Foraker  triumphed  over  the  door  without 
the  faintest  knowledge  of  the  open  sesame. 
So  many  congressmen  had  fallen  victims  to 
the  countersign  knock  that  Foraker  knew 
what  it  meant  when  he  got  there  and  knocked 
in  vain.  He  frowned  again,  bit  his  lip,  and 
dashed  his  fist  ferociously  against  the  door. 
Then  he  listened,  and  thought  he  heard  a  far- 
away chuckle  on  the  other  side.  His  scowl 
deepened  and  he  rattled  the  door-knob  impo- 
tently,  conscious  that  a  group  of  newspaper 
men,  sworn  to  secrecy  about  the  fraternity 
knock,  were  regarding  him  gravely  and  that 
the  sturdy  negro  watchmen  were  doubtless 
chuckling  inside. 

Then  Mr.  Foraker  stepped  away  and 
thought  for  a  moment.  His  anger  overcame 
him,  and  he  decided  to  return  and  give  a  few 
hammers  on  the  door  just  to  express  his  opin- 
ion of  it.  Accordingly  he  raised  his  fist  and 
put  his  whole  soul  into  a  complicated  tattoo 
of  rage. 

As  the  last  knock  rang  out,  an  answering 
knuckle  sounded  on  the  inside.  Mr.  Foraker, 
deeming  this  mere  sarcasm,  hit  the  door  again. 
To  his  intense  astonishment  it  flew  open,  and 
a  bowing  attendant  stood  before  him,  inviting 


ELIHU   ROOT.  .' 


•  -  • 


*•.  •    •  •    • 


"THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"   289 

him.  to  the  secretary's  presence.  He  had  ac- 
cidentally hit  on  the  right  knock. 

As  Foraker  came  out  after  a  most  satisfac- 
tory interview,  he  was  beaming  all  over.  One 
of  the  gravely-watching  newspaper  men  in 
the  corridor  remarked  to  a  neighbor  as  the 
senator  passed  along  : 

*'  Only  one  thing  bothers  him  now.  He 
wishes  he  could  remember  that  knock." 

When  William  H.  Taft  succeeded  him  in 
the  War  Department  there  was  not  a  mo- 
ment's question  in  anybody's  mind  that  Taft 
would  hold  the  place  up  to  the  high  level 
where  Root  had  left  it ;  but  in  one  respect 
Root's  retirement  left  a  hole  utterly  unfillable 
by  Taft  or  anybody  else.  The  tabasco-flavored 
retorts  which  for  four  years  lent  spice  and 
flavor  to  the  routine  at  the  big  white  build- 
ing on  Seventeenth  Street  could  never  be  dupli- 
cated. Within  a  week  after  Root's  disappear- 
ance persons  having  regular  business  at  the 
War  Department  began  to  wear  a  look  of  miss- 
ing something.  The  atmosphere  was  a  little 
flat  and  tame  after  those  pungent  years. 

In  addition  to  this  Mr.  Root  holds  a  place 
in  the  hall  of  fame  as  an  official  who  had 
more  different  ways  of  not  telling  newspaper 
men  things  they  wanted  to  know  than  even 
the  imagination  of  Shakespeare  could  have 


290   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  ^' 

conceived.  In  the  course  of  his  work  at  the 
department  Mr.  Root  grew  to  know  and  like 
the  correspondents  on  duty  there,  and  they 
reciprocated  the  feeling ;  but  on  occasions 
when  he  did  not  want  to  tell  them  things  this 
liking  on  their  part  was  increased  by  a  cha- 
grined admiration  for  his  genius  for  silence. 
He  seemed  to  enjoy  a  battle  of  wits  of  that 
kind  more  than  anything  else  that  came  in 
the  course  of  his  routine. 

It  was  during  the  days  of  the  Chinese 
trouble  in  1900,  when  Mr.  Root,  in  Mr.  Hay's 
absence,  was  acting  practically  as  secretary 
both  of  war  and  state,  that  this  talent  of  his 
found  its  fullest  play.  It  often  happened  that 
the  fullest  and  most  up-to-date  news  of  the 
invasion  came,  not  from  Peking  or  from  any 
European  capital,  but  from  Washington,  and 
every  afternoon  a  force  of  correspondents  used 
to  fill  Mr.  Root's  room  and  ask  him  questions. 
He  enjoyed  these  levees,  and  often  gave  the 
information  desired.  But  when  he  did  not 
there  was  fun.  On  such  occasions  the  secre- 
tary would  swing  back  in  his  chair  with  an 
iron  grin,  brace  hiqaself  for  an  onslaught,  and 
pick  up  a  pencil  as  a  defensive  weapon.  By 
the  operations  of  this  pencil  the  cross-examin- 
ing force  could  gauge  the  progress  they  were 
making.       It   was   never   still,   but   when  it 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  291 

tapped  gently  the  secretary  was  having  things 
his  own  way.  When  it  tapped  furiously, 
incessantly,  and  the  iron  grin  shortened 
a  trifle,  the  secretary  was  hard  pressed  and 
was  busy  finding  new  ways  for  not  saying 
things. 

One  typical  seance  of  that  period  may  be 
described  to  give  a  view  of  Root  in  the  act  of 
not  telling  news.  It  was  while  the  army  was 
nearing  Peking,  but  before  the  entry,  and 
when  a  battle  was  momentarily  expected. 
The  correspondents  had  discovered  that  a 
dispatch  had  been  received  from  Minister 
Conger,  but  Mr.  Root  did  not  seem  inclined 
to  tell  what  was  in  it.  When  the  audience 
discovered  this  it  was  silent  a  moment  and 
then  resolved  on  strategy. 

"  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  one  strategian,  "  is 
this  dispatch  suppressed  in  accordance  with 
the  established  policy  of  the  government  not 
to  give  out  dispatches  which  give  information 
about  military  operations?" 

If  Mr.  Root  replied  in  the  affirmative  it 
would  establish  one  theory  about  the  dis- 
patch, which  was  that  it  related  to  the  best 
mode  of  attack  on  Peking ;  if  in  the  negative, 
that  it  was  of  a  diplomatic  character. 

"  It  isn't  suppressed,"  said  Mr.  Root,  tapping 
gently. 


292  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

'*  Not  suppressed ! "  exclaimed  the  strate- 
gian,  outflanked.  ''  Well — what — what's  been 
done  with  it,  then  ?  " 

''  It  isn't  given  out,"  explained  Mr.  Root. 

''  Oh !  "  said  the  strategian,  recovering. 
"  Well,  is  this  dispatch  not  given  out  because 
of  the  policy  of  the  government  to  give  out 
nothing  bearing  on  military  operations  ?  " 

Profound  silence  ;  every  ear  strained. 

Root  (lucidly,  and  with  the  air  of  one  who 
expounds) :  '^  The  dispatch  is  not  given  out 
in  accordance  with  the  policy  of  this  depart- 
ment to  give  out  nothing  which  in  its  judg- 
ment is  of  such  a  nature  that  its  contents 
ought  not  to  be  given  out." 

Several  seconds  of  dazed  silence,  followed  by 
great  laughter. 

''  The  Delphic  oracle  !  "  said  the  strategian, 
sadly,  and  the  secretary  grinned,  and  tapped 
gently. 

'*  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  another  strategian, 
taking  up  a  new  mode  of  attack, ''  isn't  it  pos- 
sible that  this  Conger  dispatch  is  similar  to 
that  sent  by  M.  Pichon  to  the  French  Govern- 
ment?" 

''  Well,  Mr.  Blank,"  replied  Root,  "  there  is 
a  wide  range  of  possibilities  about  a  dispatch 
which  has  not  been  given  out."  (Laughter, 
during  which    an  inattentive  person  on  the 


«  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  293 

outskirts  of  the  crowd  shoved  himself  to  the 
front  and  burst  out  eagerly)  : 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Secretary,  can  you  tell  us  what  is 
in  the  Conger  dispatch  ?  "  (A  roar  of  laugh- 
ter, headed  by  the  secretary,  and  utter  efFace- 
ment  of  the  inattentive  person.) 

At  this  point  Acting  Secretary  of  State 
Adee,  who  is  very  deaf,  came  in.  A  gleam  of 
mischief  shone  in  Root's  eye.  He  went  over 
to  Adee,  put  his  mouth  to  that  official's  ear, 
and  shouted  : 

^'  Mr.  Adee,  these  gentlemen  say  you  have  a 
dispatch  from  Minister  Conger,  and  have 
asked  me  what  is  in  it.  I  have  told  them  to 
ask  you."     (Which  he  had  not.) 

"  Tell  them,"  replied  Adee,  gravely  and 
majestically,  ''  that  there  is  such  a  dispatch ; 
but  that  it  will  not  be  made  public." 

Eoot  grinned,  and  the  audience  roared ;  but 
Adee  was  not  looking  at  them,  and  so  did  not 
hear. 

^'  It's  hard,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said  a  corre- 
spondent, as  they  prepared  to  go,  ^'  that  you 
won't  tell  us  anything ;  you  are  the  whole 
government  now,  except  Adee,  and  it's  no  use 
asking  him." 

"No,"  returned  Root,  referring  to  Adee's 
deafness.     "  He  is  amply  protected." 

One  day  a  party  of  eight  caught  him  as  he 


294:  " THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE'* 

was  trying  to  get  into  his  office  surreptitiously, 
he  having  returned  from  a  visit  to  the  White 
House  ;  and  one  of  them  asked  him  what  the 
policy  of  the  government  in  the  crisis  was 
going  to  be.  Root,  who  had  answered  that 
question  a  hundred  times,  threw  up  his 
hands. 

*^  Gentlemen,"  he  exclaimed,  "  Blank,  of 
the  Associated  Press,  came  in  and  asked  me 
that  this  morning,  and  I  just  looked  at  him 
helplessly  and  then  took  out  the  Hay  note 
which  defined  our  policy  on  July  3d,  and  I 
asked  him  if  he  wouldn't  accept  that  with  my 
compliments  and  go  away  and  study  our 
policy  out  from  that. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  continued  Root,  plead- 
ingly, "  if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  go  to  your 
offices  and  each  get  out  your  copy  of  the  old 
Hay  note  and  look  it  over,  you  will  know 
what  our  policy  is  ;  and  if,  after  studying  that 
note,  you  will  each  get  up  a  dispatch  to  your 
papers,  each  telling  the  contents  of  that  note 
in  your  own  peculiar  and  vivid  styles,  there 
will  be  in  the  papers  to-morrow  one — two — 
three,"  said  Root,  counting  his  visitors, ''  eight 
different  and  irreconcilable  stories  of  what  the 
policy  of  this  government  is  going  to  be." 

The  next  day  one  of  the  eight  came  in  look- 
ing pleased.     ''  That  was  a  good  tip  of  Root's," 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''   295 

he  said  ;  ''  I  went  back  to  the  office  and  got 
out  the  Hay  note  and  got  a  good  dispatch  out 
of  it." 

When  the  idea  of  modifying  the  Cuban 
tariff  came  up  a  newspaper  man,  in  one  of  the 
daily  seances,  asked  Mr.  Root : 

''  Mr.  Secretary,  has  this  modification  scheme 
ever  been  proposed  by  this  government?  " 

It  so  happened  that  Root  himself  had  pro- 
posed it  in  his  annual  report  in  1899,  and  he 
gave  a  cold,  satiric  grin  and  said  : 

"  You  should  read  the  standard  authors, 
Mr.  Blank." 

Eight  correspondents  lined  up  before  him 
one  day  in  a  semicircle.  There  was  a  mo- 
ment's silence.  The  secretary  was  reading 
some  papers,  but  he  looked  up  and  bowed,  and 
then  the  resemblance  of  the  outfit  to  a  glee 
club  seemed  to  strike  him. 

''  We're  all  here,  Mr.  Secretary,"  observed 
one. 

"So  I  see,"  he  remarked.  ''  And  you  look 
as  if  you  were  going  to  sing." 

Then  they  asked  him  about  a  report  that 
he  was  investigating  to  find  out  how  foreign 
military  attaches  got  American  secrets.  He 
said  he  had  seen  it  in  a  Chicago  paper,  but 
that  it  was  not  true.  Then  the  correspondent 
of  a  well-known  yellow  journal,  which  may 


296  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

be  disguised  under  the  title  of  the  New  York 
WhoopeVj  began  earnestly  : 

"  Mr.  Secretary,  the  story  also  appeared  in 
the  Whooper " 

"  Ah  !  "  interrupted  Root,  in  a  tone  of  trepi- 
dation, wheeling  around  in  his  revolving  chair 
with  a  look  of  alarm.  ''  Now  it  begins  to  be 
serious." 

And  he  gave  the  yellow  journalist  such  a 
look  of  frightened  and  respectful  attention 
that  the  latter  forgot  what  he  was  going  to 
say,  and  the  crowd  laughed  uproariously  at  his 
expense. 

Mr.  Root  did  not  think  much  of  General 
Funston's  spectacular  hunt  for  Aguinaldo, 
which  was  liberally  advertised  from  the  time 
he  started  out.  When  the  papers  first  began 
to  recount  Funston's  progress,  one  of  the  par- 
ticipants in  the  daily  levee  remarked  : 

''  I  see  Funston  has  started  after  Aguinaldo 
with  a  brass  band." 

Root  grinned  and  ruminated  a  while,  and 
then  observed  : 

'^  Curious  disguise  Funston  has  adopted." 

It  was  once  announced  that  Mr.  Root  was 
going  to  the  Philippines.  He  was  asked  about 
this  story  at  the  daily  seance. 

"  I  suppose,"  he  cynically  remarked,  look- 
ing at  the  representative  of  the  paper  which 


"THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"   297 

had  made  the  announcement,  ''  that  I  will 
have  to  go  for  the  Biblical  reason — that  that 
which  was  written  may  be  fulfilled." 

He  was  urged  to  say  something  about  it,  on 
the  ground  that  "  it's  a  dry  time  and  we  need 
a  story,"  and  finally  he  relented,  unbent  and 
said  : 

**Well,  all  right.  Say  I'm  going.  The 
president  sent  the  vice-president  to  me  and 
asked  me  to  go." 

This  being  interpreted  as  a  reference  to  the 
time  when  Mr.  McKinley,  then  president,  sent 
Vice-President  Hobart  to  Secretary  Alger  and 
asked  him  to  resign,  there  was  a  howl  of 
laughter. 

When  the  American  evacuation  of  China 
was  first  contemplated,  Mr.  E-oot  refused  to 
admit  it.  The  correspondents  were  pretty 
sure  it  was  going  to  be  done,  but  no  device 
was  so  ingenious  as  to  extort  an  admission 
from  Root.  After  trying  everything  else,  one 
of  the  cross-examiners  asked  pleadingly  : 

"Mr.  Secretary,  can't  you  at  least  tell  us 
what  position  we  will  be  in  if  we  withdraw 
our  troops,  with  regard  to  the  rest  of  the  pow- 
ers? I  don't  ask  you  to  admit  that  we  are 
going  to  withdraw,  but  only  to  say  what  po- 
sition we  will  be  in  if  we  do  withdraw." 

*'  A  power,"  replied  Root,  oracularly,  knit- 


298  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  ^^ 

ting  his  brows  and  speaking  slowly  as  if 
weighing  his  words,  ''which  removes  all  its 
troops  from  China  will  of  necessity  be  in  the 
position  of  a  power  which  has  no  military 
force  there." 

When  General  Wood  suppressed  the  news- 
paper La  Discusion,  in  Havana,  because  it 
printed  a  cartoon  making  fun  of  him,  Mr.  Root 
was  asked  about  it,  but  he  said  that  General 
Wood  had  not  reported  his  action  and  he 
knew  nothing  of  it. 

'*  This,  then,"  said  the  correspondent,  ''  is 
not  the  sort  of  public  act  which  General  Wood 
thinks  it  necessary  to  inform  the  department 
about?" 

''Oh,  no,"  replied  Root,  lightly.  "  It^s  a 
mere  matter  of  detail — one  newspaper  more 
or  less  in  the  world." 

He  then  said  he  had  to  go  to  attend  a  meet- 
ing of  the  Grant,  Sherman  and  McClellan 
Monument  Commissions.  They  had  not  se- 
lected a  site  yet. 

''  Do  you  think  one  will  be  selected  this 
afternoon?" 

"  Oh,  I  think  so,"  said  Root,  optimistically  ; 
"the  other  gentlemen  on  the  commission 
have  nothing  else  to  do." 

A  certain  improvement  on  Long  Island  was 
under   discussion,  and   Mr.  Root  was    being 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  299 

questioned  about  it.  Mr.  Roosevelt  was  then 
vice-president. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  have  any  communica- 
tions from  Oyster  Bay  ?  "  asked  a  correspond- 
ent, meaning  communications  with  regard  to 
the  improvement. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Root,  "  unless  T  give 
appointments  in  the  army  to  all  the  Rough 
Riders." 

Being  asked  what  he  was  going  to  do  with 
the  transports  when  the  Atlantic  Transport 
line  was  discontinued,  Mr.  Root  pondered 
awhile  and  said  hopefully  : 

*^  Well,  if  I  could  choose  the  passenger-list, 
I'd  take  'em  out  in  the  Atlantic  Ocean  and 
sink  'em." 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Mr.  Secretary  ?  "  he 
was  asked  one  day  when  they  came  in  and 
found  him  writing. 

''  Appointing  lieutenant-generals,"  replied 
Mr.  Root.  He  was  making  out  the  commis- 
sions for  West  Point  graduates,  and  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  none  of  those  commissioned  would 
have  doubted  the  accuracy  of  his  version. 

One  day  some  Creek  Indians  got  into  his 
office  by  mistake  for  that  of  the  secretary  of 
the  interior.  There  was  a  funny  play  of  cross 
purposes  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  Root 
saw  where  the  mistake  lay. 


300  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

''  Oh,"  he  said,  "  you  have  got  into  the 
wrong  place.  I  have  jurisdiction  over  navi- 
gable rivers,  but  not  over  Creeks." 


Ill 

TAFT,  SPOKESMAN  OF  THE  ADMINISTEATION 


Every  Cabinet  officer  has  a  part  to  play 
in  the  administration  of  which  he  is  a  mem- 
ber, except  Mr.  William  Howard  Taft,  who 
has  several  parts.  He  is  secretary  of  war,  for 
one  thing.  He  is  colonial  secretary,  for  an- 
other ;  and  that  means  a  great  deal  more  than 
it  might  mean  with  some  secretaries,  for  Mr. 
Taft  has  been  in  the  Philippines  as  governor- 
general  and  is  all  wrapped  up  in  that  subject. 
The  Philippines  are  the  apple  of  his  eye.  He 
is  no  cold-blooded  and  apathetic  administra- 
tor of  a  province  he  has  seen  on  maps.  The 
Philippines  are  Taft's  hobby,  just  as  some 
men  make  hobbies  of  posters  or  picture  postal 
cards. 

Balzac,  discoursing  of  the  mighty  part 
played  in  the  world  by  hobbies,  observes  that 
many  a  man  on  the  brink  of  suicide  has  been 
plucked  back  from  the  river  by  the  thought 
of  his  nightly  game  of  dominoes.  If  Taft  is 
ever  driven  to  the  edge  of  suicide  by  news- 
paper articles  announcing  that  he  is  about  to 
give  up  his  presidential  prospects  for  the  chief 
justiceship  of  the  Supreme  Court,  or  by  any 

301 


302  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

other  adequate  cause,  what  will  pluck  him 
back  will  be  the  thought  of  the  Philippines. 

Finally,  and  chiefly,  Taft  is  the  spokesman 
of  the  administration.  Not  literally ;  he  does 
not  do  all  its  talking.  But  when  the  adminis- 
tration strikes,  it  frequently  strikes  with  Taft's 
large  and  competent  fist ;  and  when  he  does 
talk,  he  talks  for  the  administration. 

Taft  announced  some  time  ago  that  he  was 
not  a  candidate  for  president.  Neither  is  he. 
While  Messrs.  Fairbanks  and  Foraker  are  ran- 
sacking the  land  for  votes  and  combinations, 
and  cultivating  a  foreign  and  difficult  geni- 
ality to  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  Taft 
is  sticking  to  his  shoemaker's  bench.  A 
presidential  candidate  would  not  have  played 
the  bull  in  the  china-shop  with  the  Republi- 
can party  in  Ohio,  as  Taft  did  at  the  election 
of  1905.  Taft  hails  from  Ohio,  and  would 
need  its  votes. 

But  a  man  large  enough  to  be  president  is 
going  to  be  talked  of  for  president,  and  for 
that  reason  the  barrenness  of  the  Republican 
situation  as  to  men  of  presidential  size  and 
the  activity  of  Messrs.  Fairbanks  and  Foraker 
engenders  incessant  talk  of  Taft.  Occasion- 
ally this  perturbs  the  dreams  of  Foraker  and 
leads  to  dispatches  to  the  papers  from  cities 
he  happens  to  be  in,  to  the  effect  that  Taft  is 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OE  THE  AVENUE  '*   303 

about  to  retire  from  the  world  and  become 
chief  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court. 

This  presidential  proposition  is  doubtless 
not  unwelcome  to  Taft,  since  no  man  has  yet 
been  discovered  who  balks  at  the  prospect,  but 
it  is  afar  and  apart  from  his  line  of  industry. 
He  is  interested  at  present  and  solely  in  his 
duties  and  pleasures  as  secretary  of  war, 
minister  for  the  colonies,  and  spokesman  of 
the  administration. 

Whenever  the  president  contemplates  an 
important  move,  whether  or  not  it  relates  to 
the  army  or  the  colonies,  he  calls  Taft  in 
consultation  and  seeks  his  advice.  The  War 
Department  has  nothing  to  do  with  railroad 
rates,  yet  Taft  was  in  consultation  with  the 
president  over  the  bill  prepared  by  the  Inter- 
state Commerce  Commission  for  submission  to 
the  Fifty-ninth  Congress.  It  was  Taft  who 
made  the  earliest  pronouncement  of  the  pres- 
ident's policy  on  this  subject,  getting  into  a 
warm  debate  with  Stuyvesant  Fish  about  it  at 
a  dinner  ;  and  when  Foraker,  with  protesta- 
tions of  undying  fealty  to  the  president,  aimed 
his  knife  at  the  president's  fifth  rib  in  the 
Ohio  campaign,  it  was  Taft  who  went  out  to 
Ohio  to  make  answer  for  the  administration. 
As  a  result  of  which  the  knife  went  into  other 
fifth  ribs  than  Roosevelt's. 


304  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

The  political  gossips,  prophets,  seers  and 
pipe-dreamers  in  which  the  town  of  Washing- 
ton abounds  like  to  prefigure  the  campaign  of 
1908  ;  and  when  they  do  their  prophecies  and 
dreams  generally  take  this  form  :  There  is  to 
be  a  division  in  the  party  before  the  conven 
tion,  in  which  the  supporters  of  the  presi- 
dent's policy  and  the  old-line  conservatives  of 
the  McKinley-Fairbanks  stripe  are  to  support 
opposing  candidates.  Sometimes,  if  the  to- 
bacco is  good,  this  line  of  prophecy  extends  to 
the  names  of  the  opposing  standard-bearers. 
For  the  chief  of  the  conservatives  there  are 
many  candidates  ;  but  when  it  comes  down  to 
the  chief  of  the  administration  men — the  men 
pledged  to  the  restraining  of  the  railroads,  the 
curbing  of  the  trusts,  and  the  other  policies 
that  would  have  been  so  strange  in  the  ears  of 
McKinley  and  Hanna — the  prophets  cast 
about  for  a  long  time  and  finally  turn  back  to 
Taft. 

For  Taft,  utterly  unlike  Roosevelt  as  he  is 
in  so  many  respects,  is  Rooseveltism  embodied. 
He  stands  four-square  on  every  plank  of  the 
Roosevelt  platform.  It  is  perfectly  true,  as  to 
railroad  rates,  that  La  Follette  was  a  veteran 
on  that  issue  long  before  Roosevelt  discovered 
it.  It  grinds  somewhat  the  souls  of  La  Fol- 
lette's  friends  to  have  rate  regulation  spoken 


•       •  •  I 

•••  • 


WILLIAM    H.    TAFT.  '>,',''' 

A  big  man  mentally  and  enormous  physically.' 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''  305 

of  as  a  Roosevelt  policy  when  they  recall  how 
La  Follette  discovered  it,  battled  for  it,  risked 
his  whole  political  life  on  it,  and  won  victories 
on  it  before  Roosevelt  ever  paid  any  attention 
to  it.  But  the  spectacle  of  La  Follette  as  a 
leader  of  the  Roosevelt  ranks  is  unthinkable. 
It  is  believed  that  Roosevelt  is  not  fond  of 
him  ;  however  that  may  be,  La  Follette  is  re- 
garded, rightly  or  wrongly,  as  a  radical,  and 
Rooseveltism  is  a  curious  compound  of  radi- 
calism and  conservatism,  of  which  Taft  is  a 
magnificent  example. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  picture  Taft  as 
leading  any  hosts  of  the  House  of  Want 
against  the  House  of  Have.  As  a  mob  leader, 
and  even  as  a  radical  chieftain,  Taftis  altogether 
out  of  the  picture.  He  represents  that  com- 
bination which  Roosevelt  represents,  and 
which  led  millionaires  and  Socialists  to  vote  for 
the  Republican  candidate  in  the  campaign  of 
1904. 

Taft  is  a  mighty  hustler,  but  there  is  noth- 
ing ''  strenuous,"  as  that  word  has  been  de- 
fined in  later  days,  about  him.  He  hustles 
calmly.  He  disposes  of  immense  quantities 
of  work  with  an  air  of  beneficent  leisure. 
He  goes  riding,  and  wears  a  riding  costume 
even  more  wonderful  than  his  chief's,  but  no 
one  prints  pieces  about  it,  although  the  spec- 


306   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

tacle  of  his  immense  legs  athwart  a  heroically 
resigned  horse  is  really  more  worthy  of  pres- 
ervation than  the  black  slouch  hat  and  com- 
bination of  statesman's  coat  and  weird 
breeches  w;hich  distinguish  the  president. 

He  is  a  big  man  mentally  and  enormous 
physically.  It  is  such  a  good  old  story  that 
it  can  never  be  printed  too.  often  how,  when 
he  was  governor-general  of  the  Philippines,  he 
cabled  to  Secretary  Root :  ''  Rode  forty  miles 
on  horseback  to-day  ;  feeling  fine,"  and  Root 
cabled  back,  "  Glad  you  are  feeling  fine  ;  how 
is  the  horse  ?  " 

One  day  an  inquisitive  reporter  asked, ''  Mr. 
Secretary,  how  much  do  you  weigh  ?  " 

"  I  won't  tell  you,"  boomed  the  secretary. 
"  But  you  know  when  somebody  asked 
Speaker  Reed  that,  he  replied  that  no  true 
gentleman  would  weigh  more  than  two  hun- 
dred pounds.  I  have  amended  that  to  three 
hundred  pounds." 

When  Secretary  Taft  speaks,  he  speaks  in  a 
sunshiny  roar.  When  he  laughs,  the  sur- 
rounding furniture  shakes  and  rumbles. 
When  he  goes  forth  the  room  trembles.  Yet 
he  is  as  light  on  his  feet  as  the  frisky  Beve- 
ridge.  You  expect  to  see  his  horse  sag  in  the 
middle  when  Taft  mounts,  accompanied  by 
his  slender,  lath-like  companion  Colonel  Ed- 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  307 

wards,  but  Taft  sits  erect  as  an  arrow  and  gal- 
lops around  like  a  West  Point  graduate.  He 
walks  erectly  and  sturdily,  as  little  bothered 
by  his  great  weight  as  if  he  were  a  schoolgirl 
in  a  gymnasium.  Wherever  he  goes  he  takes 
life  with  a  buoyant  breeziness  that  makes  it 
very  difficult  for  political  opponents  to  feel 
hard  towards  him. 

Altogether,  he  is  a  good-sized  and  thorough 
man.  When  he  was  young  he  was  a  reporter. 
There  was  an  alleged  society  publication  in 
the  town  of  Cincinnati  which  made  Town 
Topics  look  like  a  Sunday-school  weekly.  Its 
principal  function  was  to  print  infamous 
libels  on  everybody  who  was  prominent  in 
Cincinnati.  There  was  no  use  in  suing  it  for 
libel,  and  the  only  remedy  was  to  thrash  the 
editor  whenever  he  was  to  be  reached.  This 
remedy  had  been  tried  by  numerous  aggrieved 
and  muscular  citizens,  without  producing  the 
least  effect.  Finally  the  sheet  published  a 
libel  on  Judge  Alphonso  Taft,  the  young  re- 
porter's father,  who  had  been  a  member  of 
Grant's  Cabinet.  Taft,  Junior,  saw  it  and  did 
not  like  it.  He  hunted  up  the  editor  and 
asked  if  he  were  the  editor.  That  person  ad- 
mitted it. 

"•  My  name  is  Taft,"  said  the  large  young 
reporter,  ''  and  my  purpose  is  to  whip  you." 


308  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

Wherewith  he  drubbed  the  libelous  editor. 
That  person  had  been  drubbed  before,  as  al- 
ready narrated  ;  but  the  drubbing  administered 
by  Taft  was  so  monumental,  cataclysmic, 
cosmic  and  complete,  that  on  the  following  day 
the  editor  suspended  publication  and  took 
himself  thence.  Cincinnati  saw  him  no  more. 
As  for  Taft,  after  thus  purging  the  community 
he  washed  his  hands  and  went  down  to  the 
City  Hall  after  an  item  for  his  paper. 

With  all  the  swiftness  and  finality  of  Taft's 
proceedings,  the  human  side  of  him  comes  to 
the  front  in  them  more  than  it  does  with  any 
other  man  of  his  kind  in  public  life.  When 
he  drove  Minister  Bowen  from  the  State  De- 
partment, for  instance,  his  action  was  as  re- 
morseless and  complete  as  Roosevelt's.  But 
having  to  do  it  grieved  him.  He  struck  the 
blow  with  a  sigh.  He  firmly  believed  he  was 
rightj  but  the  hardship  of  infiicting  pain,  of 
terminating  an  honorable  career,  was  fully  as 
present  in  Taft's  mind  as  the  necessity  of 
punishing  a  man  w^ho  he  believed  deserved  it. 
Of  Roosevelt,  with  all  his  fine  qualities,  that 
would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 

This  human  side  of  Taft  is  the  one  which 
endears  him  most  to  those  who  meet  him.  It 
does  not  detract  in  any  degree  from  the  great 
respect  which  is  paid  to  his  fine  abilities  and 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "    309 

to  his  great  force  of  character.  In  Washing- 
ton folks  are  skeptical  and  cynical  about 
public  men,  and  even  those  who  are  admired 
are  admired  with  limitations.  Close  contact 
rubs  off  a  good  deal  of  the  illusion.  But 
there  are  no  limitations  as  to  Taft ;  and  with 
the  respect  that  is  accorded  him  by  all  those 
who  come  in  contact  with  him  there  is  mingled 
real  affection. 


IV 

KNOX  THE  LAWYER 

When  the  old-school  playwright  made  a 
play  or  the  old-school  novelist  a  novel  in 
which  a  lawyer  figured,  he  conceived  it  his 
duty  to  make  his  character  the  law  incarnate. 
The  bar  stuck  out  all  over  him ;  there  was 
nothing  miscellaneously  human  about  him, 
and  you  couldn't  forget  and  were  not  meant  to 
forget  for  one  moment  that  he  was  the  type. 
Everything  that  did  not  necessarily  pertain  to 
the  bar  was  carefully  squeezed  out  of  him. 

Readers  have  wondered  if  any  such  typical 
lawyer  ever  existed,  and  remembering  how 
little  their  own  lawyer  friends  resemble  the 
type,  have  decided  in  the  negative.  But  the 
playwright  is  vindicated.  Any  one  who 
doubts  the  existence  of  his  character  has  only 
to  journey  to  Washington  and  study  Philander 
C.  Knox,  attorney-general  under  two  presi- 
dents and  now  senator  from  Pennsylvania. 

Not  that  he  is  the  lawyer  of  the  play  and 
the  novel ;  he  is  a  more  modern  type,  but  he  is 
the  law  on  two  legs.  It  is  difficult  to  think  of 
him  in  any  other  capacity.  After  you  have 
thought  of  Knox  the  lawyer,  try  and  think  of 

310 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "   311 

some  other  kind  of  Knox  and  your  mind  be- 
comes a  vacuum.  After  the  lawyer  is  ex- 
hausted there  is  nothing  more  to  think  about. 

Hence  there  comes  about  a  very  remarkable 
state  of  affairs.  Never,  probably,  has  there 
been  a  man  so  prominent  in  Washington  who 
is  the  subject  of  so  little  anecdote.  Knox  has 
been  there  five  years,  and  for  four  of  them 
has  been  one  of  the  most  talked-about  men  in 
the  country.  But  there  are  no  stories  about 
him.  He  is  never  credited  with  saying  any 
witty  things.  He  is  not  a  story-teller,  though 
he  is  a  fisherman.  He  has  figured  in  no 
humorous  incidents  in  his  term  of  office  as  a 
cabinet  minister. 

Once,  at  Atlantic  City,  some  wealthy  hood- 
lums indulged  in  indecent  language  in  the 
hearing  of  some  ladies  who  were  dining  with 
the  attorney-general.  Immediately  afterwards 
the  gilded  youths  were  on  the  outside  of  the 
place,  one  of  them  nursing  a  black  eye,  the  gift 
of  Mr.  Knox.  This  is  the  only  ''  incident  "  of 
his  career ;  and  yet,  highly  charged  with  con- 
temporaneous human  interest  as  it  was,  the  re- 
porters had  a  hard  time  filling  the  requisite 
amount  of  space  about  it.  It  had  taken  place 
in  such  a  businesslike  manner  and  was  so  to- 
tally devoid  of  frills.  There  was  nothing  to 
touch  up,  nothing  to  ornament.     There  is  not 


312  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

another  man  in  public  life  who  could  have 
done  so  thorough  a  job  of  the  kind  and  have 
left  such  a  distinct  impression  that  it  was 
quite  ordinary,  quite  matter-of-fact  and  natu- 
rally incidental  to  a  dinner. 

Even  the  imagination  of  the  summer  resort 
reporters,  the  most  inflammable  imagination 
known  to  science,  could  not  invest  the  affair 
with  any  entertaining  and  romantic  details. 
It  was  as  simple  and  businesslike  an  affair 
as  the  occasion  when  in  his  youth  Knox  was 
dropped  out  of  college  because,  when  the 
whole  class  was  under  sentence  of  suspension 
if  it  did  not  apologize  to  the  faculty,  the  little, 
round-faced,  bullet-headed  fighter  was  the 
only  one  who  would  not  apologize. 

He  has  done  remarkable  and  striking 
things,  but  the  newspaper  correspondents 
have  had  nothing  interesting  to  record  about 
his  way  of  doing  them.  When  Hay  called 
checkmate  on  the  international  board  or 
Payne  threw  a  postal  grafter  out,  there  were 
picturesque  incidents  to  record ;  but  when 
Knox  fired  the  first  shot  at  some  trust  whose 
scalp  he  intended  to  have,  there  was  abso- 
lutely nothing  to  record  except  that  he  had 
done  it.  He  is  not  a  man  that  things  happen 
to.  You  can  as  easily  i machine  things  hap- 
pening to  the  Code  of  Civil  Procedure, 


PHILANDER   C.    KXOX.  - . "  o     .  ; , ,  ,  .     -. 
A  little  man,  with  a  cherubic  face  and  a  brisk,  alert  manner/ 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  313 

Knox  has  spent  his  life  in  one  of  the  most 
highly  political  states  on  the  map,  and  he 
has  lived  in  Pittsburg,  where  political  things 
are  always  happening.  But  he  never  took 
part  in  any  citizens'  movements  against  the 
local  ring.  Neither  did  he  ever  figure  as  a  sup- 
porter of  the  local  ring,  or  of  the  state  ring. 

He  was  absolutely  irreconcilable  with  poli- 
tics. He  was  utterly  wrapped  up  in  the  law. 
No  Pittsburger  could  have  imagined  him  in 
politics,  not  even  in  politics  as  a  recreation. 

Knox  was  not  a  jury  lawyer  ;  it  would  be 
impossible  to  think  of  that  dry,  keen,  studi- 
ous brain  so  employed.  He  was  a  corporation 
lawyer.  He  was  the  counsel  for  the  Carnegie 
Steel  Company  and  its  allied  interests,  which 
paid  him  a  salary  variously  reported  as  from 
$50,000  to  $80,000  a  year. 

President  McKinley  took  him  away  from 
the  steel  people  and  made  him  attorney-gen- 
eral at  a  salary  of  $8,000  a  year.  The  infer- 
ence was  irresistible — to  men  who  did  not 
know  Knox.  No  clearer  case,  they  said,  of 
putting  a  trust  attorney  in  the  office  of  trust 
prosecutor  had  ever  been  made  ;  if  Knox  took 
$8,000  a  year  to  prosecute  the  trusts,  it  must 
be  because  the  trusts  meant  him  to  and  con- 
sidered it  a  good  investment. 

But  those  who  reasoned  in  this  way  forgot 


314  ''  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 


I 


that  Knox  is  first  and  last  a  lawyer.  He  has 
the  lawyer's  conscience  as  not  one  lawyer  in  a 
thousand  has.  It  is  the  lawyer's  conscience 
that  makes  the  lawyer  do  his  best  for  his 
client,  even  if  he  knows  that  client  to  be  a 
murderer. 

Knox  had  served  the  trusts,  his  clients, 
with  a  skill  and  efficiency  that  had  raised  him 
to  the  front  rank  of  his  profession  and  won  for 
him  golden  rewards.  When  his  client  was  the 
United  States  government,  Knox  proceeded  to 
serve  it  exactly  as  he  had  served  his  old  client. 

Why,  as  a  lawyer,  he  should  have  given  up 
the  magnificent  salary  his  old  client  paid  him 
to  take  the  beggarly  pay  of  his  new  one — a 
wage  that  does  not  pay  the  expenses  of  his 
beautiful  establishment  in  Washington — is  a 
mystery.  But  Knox  is  rich,  and  perhaps  he 
counted  in  the  glory  that  goes  with  public 
station  and  public  achievement  with  the  pic- 
ayune salary  his  new  client  offered,  and  fig- 
ured that  the  exchange  was  fair. 

At  any  rate,  he  entered  on  his  new  work 
with  no  prejudices.  There  were  the  lawyer's 
brain  and  hand,  ready  to  serve  the  new  client 
who  had  paid  him  a  retainer.  He  awaited 
instructions.  It  was  exactly  as  if  a  new  cor- 
poration had  engaged  him.  He  recognized 
President  McKinley  as  the  head  of  the  cor- 


"  THE  OTHEK  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  315 

poration.  President  McKinley  did  not  indi- 
cate that  the  interests  of  the  corporation  re- 
quired any  onslaught  on  the  trusts.  Knox 
did  not  make  any.  He  went  ahead  with 
routine  Department  of  Justice  business,  since 
that  was  what  his  client  wanted  him  to  do. 
It  was  all  one  to  him. 

When  President  Roosevelt  became  head  of 
the  corporation  and  he  wanted  some  suits 
brought,  Knox  took  the  orders  of  his  client. 
It  appeared  that  the  suits  were  to  be  against 
trusts.     Knox  was  perfectly  satisfied. 

He  went  to  work  under  Mr.  Roosevelt's  or- 
ders with  the  hard,  direct  determination — not 
the  enthusiasm,  Knox  is  not  enthusiastic — that 
he  had  displayed  under  the  orders  of  his  old 
clients,  the  trusts.  He  was  no  more  emotional 
about  it  than  he  had  been  when  he  was  doing 
routine  business  under  Mr.  McKinley's  orders. 

When  he  said,  after  the  Northern  Securities 
decision,  that  the  government  was  ^' not  going 
to  run  amuck,"  he  spoke  for  his  client.  He 
would  prosecute  trusts  just  as  fast  or  as 
slowly  as  his  client  desired,  and  what  he  did 
would  be  done  with  a  splendid  efficiency ; 
that  was  the  real  meaning  of  that  much- 
talked-of  phrase.  There  would  be  no  more 
emotion  about  it  than  if  he  were  suing  delin- 
quent debtors  in  a  magistrate's  court. 


816  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 


I 


Knox's  trust  suits  were  conducted  by  sub- 
ordinates, under  his  generalship.  When  he 
made  a  big  killing  and  the  newspaper  men 
went  to  him  for  something  interesting  about 
it,  Knox  would  tell  them  about  these  subor- 
dinates and  how  the  work  was  apportioned 
among  them,  insist  that  the  full  measure  of 
credit  be  given  them,  and  say  nothing  about 
himself. 

For  Knox,  though  he  is  lawyerism  incarnate, 
is  not  dried  up  nor  dehumanized.  He  is  a  de- 
lightful person,  with  something  winning  and 
instantly  attractive  about  him. 

He  is  a  little  man,  with  a  cherubic  face  and 
a  brisk,  alert  manner.  He  bustles  when  he 
walks.  He  looks  an  inquisitor  in  the  eye  and 
replies  in  a  prompt,  staccato  manner.  There 
is  nothing  pompous  or  pretentious  about  him  ; 
he  is  frankness  itself,  as  candid  as  a  lake. 

He  has  not  the  vice  of  lying  to  newspaper 
men  ;  if  he  does  not  want  to  give  them  the  in- 
formation sought,  he  tells  them  so  with  cheery 
directness.  There  is  a  bright  freedom  about 
his  manner  in  conversation  that  is  somewhat 
Western. 

He  lives  in  a  magnificent  house,  surrounded 
by  every  luxury,  yet  sometimes  he  comes  to  the 
door  himself  when  the  bell  rings.  Horses  are 
his  passion,  even  above  golf;  when  he  came  tq 


" THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  317 

Washington  he  bought  two  for  which  he  paid 
several  thousand  dollars  more  than  the  Count 
of  Monte  Cristo  did  for  the  pair  with  which  he 
astonished  Paris. 

Between  his  departure  from  the  Department 
of  Justice  and  his  entry  into  real  senatorial 
work  there  has  been  a  breathing  spell.  He 
left  Roosevelt's  Cabinet  in  1904  and  his  only 
service  in  the  Senate  has  been  in  the  short 
winter  session  of  1904-5,  in  which  nothing 
happened  and  he,  as  a  new  senator,  had  no 
chance  to  show  what  he  could  do.  His  sena- 
torial service  is  really  just  beginning.  And 
public  curiosity  is  very  busy  about  what  that 
new  career  of  his  will  be. 

In  all  the  talk  about  how  Knox  will  figure 
in  the  Senate  the  extraordinary  development 
of  his  law-mind  has  been  overlooked.  There 
is  no  telling  anything  about  it.  When  he  left 
the  Department  of  Justice  the  work  which  he 
had  been  doing  for  his  old  client  was  closed. 
In  one  sense  he  is  still  Avorking  for  the  same 
client,  but  in  another  sense  he  is  not.  It 
has  been  assumed  that  he  would  become  a 
trust  specialist  in  the  Senate,  but  he  is  no 
longer  under  any  obligation  to  his  client  to 
specialize.  Perhaps  he  will  consider  himself 
perfectly  free  to  interest  himself  in  other  mat- 
ters than  trusts. 


318   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

Quite  certain  is  it  that  there  must  be  a 
client.  Knox  would  not  know  himself  with- 
out one.  His  client  is  still  the  United  States 
government,  and  it  is  strongly  probable  that 
he  will  continue  to  hold  himself  as  being  en- 
listed in  the  service  of  the  head  of  that  cor- 
poration. One  thing  is  absolutely  certain — 
he  will  not  feel  himself  under  the  slightest  ob- 
ligation to  his  old  clients,  the  trusts.  He  ren- 
dered to  them  services  which  were  paid  for, 
and  that  book  is  closed.  He  is  under  obliga- 
tions to  nobody  but  the  new  client,  Uncle 
Sam. 

As  to  patronage,  how  Knox  will  view  his 
duty  to  his  new  client,  a  constituent  part  of 
which  is  the  people  of  Pennsylvania,  has  not 
been  sufficiently  developed  yet ;  and  no  man 
can  guess  it  who  does  not  know  the  workings 
of  this  highly  sensitized  law-mind.  That  he 
will  look  upon  it  from  the  client  point  of  view 
is  not  to  be  doubted  ;  he  is  constitutionally  un- 
able to  do  anything  else. 

The  thing  may  appear  to  be  perfectly  sim- 
ple, since  the  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania 
gives  him  his  commission  ;  but  Pennsylvania 
senators  have  a  way  of  regarding  their  com- 
missions as  coming  from  the  machine,  in 
which,  up  to  the  election  of  1905,  they  were 
amply  justified  by  the  overwhelming  public 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  319 

sentiment  of  the  State.  Knox  may  have 
taken  the  same  view.  In  New  York  there  is 
often  excellent  reason  to  doubt  that  the  ma- 
chine represents  the  people,  but  in  Pennsyl- 
vania there  was,  unfortunately,  no  reason  at 
all  to  doubt  it.  And  Knox,  while  no  politi- 
cian, was  a  Quay  man,  so  far  as  he  ever  gave 
any  thought  or  attention  to  politics. 

He  is  perfectly  incapable  of  being  afraid  of 
any  boss  or  of  bowing  the  knee  to  anybody  on 
earth.  But  he  probably  did  regard  his  obliga- 
tion as  a  double  one,  to  the  machine  and  to 
the  people,  and  intended  to  do  his  duty  to 
both  clients.  At  any  rate  he  refused  to  come 
to  the  aid  of  the  swamped  machine  in  Pennsyl- 
vania at  the  election  of  1905,  and  yet  would 
not  give  any  aid  to  the  reformers.  If  the 
State  machine  proves  to  be  wrecked  beyond 
salvation,  he  may  consider  that  his  obligation 
is  solely  to  the  one  remaining  client — the  State. 
But  if  so,  it  will  not  be  because  the  election  has 
terrified  him  or  convinced  him  of  any  sail- 
trimming  necessity  for  him. 

When  Philander  C.  Knox's  career  in  the 
Senate  begins  to  unfold  there  will  be  more 
than  one  reason  to  watch  his  career  with  in- 
terest. An  interesting  political  study  will  be 
presented,  but  there  will  also  be  a  very  inter- 
esting psychological  problem  to  solve. 


WYNKE,  THE  EING-BEEAKEE 

Cabinet  places  are  not  often  given  as  re- 
wards of  merit.  Still  rarer  is  the  case  of  a 
Cabinet  office  given  as  a  reward  of  merit  to  a 
man  whose  merit  consisted  in  his  hunting  out 
graft  in  the  department  of  which  he  is  made 
the  head.  This  it  was  which  in  1904  and  1905 
gave  interest  to  the  presence  in  President 
Roosevelt's  Cabinet  of  Postmaster-General 
Wynne. 

A  year  before  no  one  would  have  picked  out 
Wynne  as  one  ever  likely  to  sit  at  a  president's 
official  table.  He  had  never  been  in  politics  ; 
he  had  no  pull ;  he  could  deliver  no  delegates  ; 
he  had  no  ''  strength."  He  held  an  office, 
which  was  his  first,  though  he  was  fifty  years 
of  age.  He  had  been  an  active,  industrious 
private  citizen  all  his  life.  The  astonishing 
rise  of  the  stenographer  Cortelyou  to  the  Cab- 
inet has  been  much  commented  upon ;  but 
Cortelyou  rose  through  a  service  of  years  in 
what  now  comes  pretty  close  to  being  a  Cabi- 
net place — that  of  secretary  to  the  president — 
and  Wynne,  the  newspaper  reporter,  did  not. 

They  often  give  first  assistant  postmaster- 
320 


COPYRI6HTED  1904 
CUNEDINST,WASH.DX. 


ROBERT   J.    WYNNE.  -::.'/• 

A  large,  ruddy- faced  man,  fifty  years  old  and  good-humored." 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  321 

generalships  to  newspaper  men.  Perry  Heath, 
of  much  fame  of  a  certain  sort,  was  one  drafted 
from  the  ranks  of  Washington  correspondents. 
Wynne  was  another — of  a  very  different  sort. 

He  stepped  into  the  first  assistant  postmas- 
ter-generalship, presumably  to  drone  away  his 
term  as  other  eminent  figureheads  had  done. 
There  had  been  plenty  of  figureheads  before 
him  ;  it  was  a  figurehead  of&ce.  A  man  who 
held  that  place,  at  least  up  to  Cortelyou's  ad- 
vent in  the  department,  was  not  expected  to 
do  much  but  sign  things.  The  things  were 
set  before  him,  and  he  signed  them.  The 
second  assistant  was  a  man  experienced  in 
the  post-ofiice  business ;  so,  once  in  awhile, 
was  the  fourth  assistant.  The  first  assistant 
looked  wise  and  signed. 

In  the  Post-Office  Department  at  that  time 
there  was  a  ring.  It  consisted  of  the  bureau 
chiefs,  who  had  established  a  machine  of  such 
strength  and  magnitude  that  first  assistants, 
and  even  postmasters-general,  were  mere  unre- 
garded incidents  of  its  career.  Practically,  it 
was  the  Post-Office  Department ;  it  was  the 
postmaster-gen  eral . 

It  did  as  it  liked,  and  if  the  postmaster-gen- 
eral, whoever  he  might  be,  ever  suspected  its 
presence,  it  was  a  suspicion  about  which  he 
could  not  get  excited.     It  had  practically  all 


322  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 


I 


of  Congress  at  its  back,  and  postmasters-gen- 
eral do  not  buck  Congress.  Still  less  do  first 
assistants.  It  had  won  Congress,  not  through 
coarse  corruption,  but  through  being  the  only 
force  to  which  the  individual  congressman 
could  appeal  for  those  things  which  are  the 
breath  of  his  political  life. 

That  may  be  hard  to  understand  in  a  great 
city,  but  in  the  country  districts  they  under- 
stand it  readily  enough.  A  congressman  who 
cannot  get  a  salary  raised,  cannot  get  a  store 
leased  for  a  post-office,  cannot  do  a  thousand 
and  one  things  for  the  financial  uplifting  of 
his  district  and  the  party  warhorses,  comes  to 
be  regarded  as  a  ''  dead  one,"  and  must  give 
place  to  a  ''  live  one  "  when  the  convention 
meets.  He  does  business  with  all  the  depart- 
ments, but  the  Post-Office  Department  is  the 
most  important  one  for  this  purpose.  With 
the  post-office  ring  ever  ready  to  help  him  out, 
his  sole  salvation  in  many  an  embattled  year, 
what  wonder  that  he  felt  morally  bound  to 
stand  by  his  saviours  ? 

The  ring,  boiled  down,  amounted  to  two 
powerful  bureau  chiefs,  Machen  and  Beavers, 
though  there  were  others  in  it.  They  had  so 
extended  their  sway  in  the  course  of  years 
that  their  unfelt  control  was  over  every  spring 
and  pivot  in  that  great  department.     The  ma- 


''  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '^  323 

ehinery  moved  smoothly,  with  hardly  a  creak, 
and  the  average  postmaster-general  was  un- 
aware of  its  presence,  or  barely  aware.  Charles 
Emory  Smith  was  unaware,  apparently. 
Perry  Heath  was  aware,  but  not  shocked. 
There  succeeded  him  a  mild,  perfectly  honest 
gentleman  from  New  Jersey,  who  in  the  course 
of  months  became  aware.  This  gentleman, 
Johnson  by  name,  finding  himself  a  mere  cog 
in  a  machine  and  recognizing  something  of  its 
maleficent  influence,  resigned  to  save  his  con- 
science and  keep  his  peace  of  mind. 

He  was  succeeded  by  Wynne ;  a  large, 
ruddy-faced  man,  fifty  years  old  and  good- 
humored.  There  was  nothing  of  the  Sherlock 
Holmes  about  him.  He  was  a  man  disposed 
to  take  things  as  they  came  and  never  to  get 
excited.  Even-tempered,  placid,  kindly  cyn- 
ical, good-naturedly  pessimistic  and  easy-go- 
ing, was  Wynne. 

That,  at  least,  was  the  popular  estimation. 
But  also  Wynne  was  a  newspaper  man  of  long 
experience,  accustomed  to  sift  things  and  not 
to  take  anything  for  granted.  Also  he  was 
honest,  of  an  honesty  that  knew  no  compro- 
mises. Heath  was  a  newspaper  man,  and 
Johnson  was  absolutely  unwilling  to  compro- 
mise with  evil.  But  Wynne  was  the  two 
combined,  and  the  members  of  the  post-office 


324  "  THE  OTHEB  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '^ 

ring  who  looked  him  over  and  decided  that 
he  would  be  '^  easy  "  were  not  aware  that  that 
would  prove  a  hard  combination  to  beat. 

The  newspaper  men  of  Washington  could 
have  told  them  something  of  Wynne's  rugged 
and  aggressive  honesty,  of  the  influence  he 
had  been  in  maintaining  the  press  gallery  free 
from  a  certain  always  lurking  danger.  If 
they  had,  however,  the  ring  would  still  have 
scoffed  at  the  idea  of  any  man  breaking  the 
entrenchments,  or  even  discovering  their  ex- 
istence. 

How  Wynne  first  discovered  the  ring  has 
not  been  made  known.  Probably  it  was  a 
gradual  dawning.  There  is  a  story  that  his 
first  realization  came  when  he  discovered  a 
signature  of  his  on  something  that  had  been 
represented  to  him  as  an  entirely  different 
matter.  From  that  time  his  growing  caution 
and  desire  to  examine  things  became  a  matter 
of  sore  irritation  and  grievous  suspicion  to  the 
ring. 

Even  the  congressmen  who  drew  the  breath 
of  life  from  the  ring  were  probably  not  aware, 
or  at  least  not  sure,  that  there  was  a  ring.  It 
took  Wynne  some  time  to  make  sure  that 
there  was  one.  When  he  found  it  out,  the 
spies  of  the  ring  carried  to  them  reports  that 
a  red-faced,  good-humored  looking  man,  who 


I 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "   325 

had,  nevertheless,  an  eye  not  all  of  good 
humor  and  containing  latent  possibilities,  was 
telling  things  to  the  president. 

Thereupon  began  a  systematic  effort  to  over- 
throw and  ruin  this  unprecedented  first  assist- 
ant, this  man  not  content  with  things  as  they 
were.  The  ring  awoke  with  amazement  to 
the  fact  that  there  were  honest  men  not 
of  Johnson's  type,  newspaper  men  not  of 
Heath's  type,  and  that  the  presence  of  one 
such  in  the  Post-Office  Department  boded  ill. 
The  ring  was  well  aware  that  a  whisper  in  the 
Post-Office  Department  was  as  dangerous  as  a 
shout  in  the  avalanche-endangered  regions  of 
the  Alps. 

A  senator  of  the  United  States  was  per- 
suaded to  inveigle  Wynne  into  free-and-easy 
observations,  later  reported  to  the  White 
House  with  sinister  surroundings,  and  the 
ring's  press  bureau  sent  out  reports  that 
Wynne  was  to  be  investigated.  At  least  the 
senator  reported  that  Wynne  had  been  in- 
veigled into  saying  these  things,  but  his  sim- 
ple denial  carried  more  weight  at  the  White 
House  than  the  senator's  word. 

Foiled  here,  the  ring  turned  to  other  meth- 
ods of  a  still  more  devious  kind.  Every  now 
and  then  a  request  from  some  very  influential 
man  would  come  in  that  So-and-So  be  pro- 


326  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

moted.  Wynne,  in  the  regular  course,  would 
turn  these  requests  over  to  the  bureau  chief 
to  learn  whether  or  not  the  man's  standing 
warranted  his  promotion.  Back  would  come 
the  report  that  the  man  was  a  shiftless  drunk- 
ard, and  Wynne  would  notify  the  influential 
backer,  in  the  crisp  and  blunt  way  that  he 
never  can  forsake,  that  he  would  not  promote 
the  man — thereby  making  an  enemy  of  the 
influential  backer. 

But  the  ring  overdid  it.  One  day  it  turned 
in  such  a  report  about  a  man  recommended 
by  a  Cabinet  officer,  and  the  Cabinet  officer, 
coming  down  to  investigate,  said,  ''  But,  Gen- 
eral, this  shiftless  drunkard  is  my  brother-in- 
law,  and  he  is  a  total  abstainer." 

Whereupon  Wynne,  the  newspaper  man,  in- 
vestigated. He  found  that  the  man's  record 
was  one  of  the  best  in  the  bureau  ;  and  a  new 
light  on  the  resources  of  the  ring  dawned 
upon  Wynne,  the  honest  man. 

These  will  serve  as  samples.  The  warfare 
waged  upon  Wynne  by  the  ring  was  wonder- 
ful in  its  diabolic  ingenuity.  He  had  no 
backing,  no  pull,  nothing  but  honesty,  shrewd- 
ness and  the  confidence  of  the  president.  He 
won. 

When  the  president  was  convinced  that 
there  should  be  an  investigation  it  was  turned 


«  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  327 

over  to  one  who  did  somewhat  resemble  a 
Sherlock  Holmes — Bristow,  the  fourth  assist- 
ant. He  conducted  the  investigation  which 
Wynne  had  incited.  He  had,  too,  the  support 
of  the  postmaster-general — a  much  misunder- 
stood man,  whose  ill-timed  ^'  hot  air  "  witti- 
cism was  directed,  not  at  the  post-office  inves- 
tigation, but  at  the  Tulloch  feature  of  it. 
Bristow's  results  are  known  to  all  men. 

The  man  who  did  more  than  any  one  else 
to  bring  about  this  investigation  received  the 
promotion  which  two  years  before,  a  hard- 
working newspaper  man,  he  could  not  have 
expected.  He  was  rewarded  with  a  seat  at 
the  president's  council  table  and  with  the 
right  to  sign  himself  '^  Postmaster-General." 
It  was  a  reward  of  merit — a  reward  for  root- 
ing out  grafting  in  the  department  of  which 
he  was  made  the  chief. 

It  does  not  seem  so  hard,  now  that  Wynne 
has  done  it.  But  it  looks  like  an  achievement 
when  one  remembers  the  long  line  of  first  as- 
sistants, and  even  postmasters-general,  who 
had  either  failed  to  detect  the  evil  or  quailed 
before  the  task.  There  were  other  men  as 
honest  as  Wynne,  other  men  as  shrewd  as 
Wynne  ;  but  Wynne  was  the  combination. 


VI 

IROKQUILL  OF  KANSAS 

'  Why  don't  you  write  poetry  any  more?  " 
''  As  I  grow  older/'  responded  Pension  Com- 
missioner Ware,  "  I  find  that  I  can  cuss  better 
in  prose." 

With  this  parting  aphorism  he  shook  the 
snow  of  Washington  from  his  feet — it  was  in 
December — and  departed  for  Kansas.  ''  I  am 
going  back  to  Kansas,"  said  he,  ''  to  rest 
among  the  cyclones.  Oh,  yes,  I  have  had 
several  years  in  the  pension  oflfice,  and  I  think 
I  shall  find  them  restful."  He  has  gone,  and 
left  behind  him  a  memory  much  execrated  by 
government  clerks  and  much  admired  by 
persons  who  like  to  see  government  work 
done  like  other  work. 

His  unpopularity  was  of  the  same  kind 
which  is  enjoyed  by  every  official  who  tries  to 
have  a  fair  day's  work  rendered  for  a  fair 
day's  pay  in  the  government  service.  Wash- 
ington takes  its  tone  from  the  government 
clerks ;  the  newspapers  there  breathe  their 
ideas,  and  a  man  of  the  Ware  type  is  bound  to 
be  regarded  as  a  tyrant. 

328 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''  329 

There  have  been  other  Wares.  Auditor 
Morris  was  killed  by  an  indignant  and  out- 
raged clerk  after  having  tried  to  introduce 
businesslike  methods  in  his  department,  and 
the  prevailing  opinion  was  that  an  unright- 
eous tyrant  was  gone.  Assistant  Secretary 
Vanderlip  resigned  from  the  Treasury  Depart- 
ment after  threats  had  been  made  against  his 
life  by  outraged  and  indignant  clerks.  Gen- 
eral Ains worth  staggers  under  a  heavy  burden 
of  odium ;  so  did  Pension  Commissioner 
Evans,  and  so  did  Secretary  Gage,  under  whose 
inhuman  administration  a  time-clock  was  in- 
troduced in  the  Treasury  Department.  The 
indignant  and  outraged  clerks  went  to  Con- 
gress to  have  the  infamous  thing  removed. 

It  is  a  little  hard  for  an  outsider  to  get  the 
Washington  viewpoint.  There  are  plenty  of 
clerks  who  work  hard  and  do  their  best,  but 
the  tone  of  the  town  is  that  a  government  job 
is  not  a  lifework  but  a  gift.  When  General 
Ainsworth  introduced  the  rule  that  clerks  in 
his  bureau  must  stay  there  until  four  o'clock, 
the  hour  for  closing,  a  mighty  protest  went  up 
against  this  unheard  of  inhumanity.  The 
women  clerks  held  a  mass-meeting,  and  sent 
a  spokeswoman  to  Ainsworth.  She  asked 
Ainsworth  if  he  had  considered  the  fact  that 
if  the  women  clerks  went  out  at  the  same  hour 


330  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE^' 

with  the  men  clerks,  they  might  be  jostled  in 
the  corridors  by  the  latter,  who  would  natu- 
rally be  hurrying  home.  Doubtless  he  had  not 
considered  it,  and  would,  on  its  being  pointed 
out  to  him,  restore  the  immemorial  privilege 
of  going  home  a  half  hour  before  closing 
time  to  the  women  clerks,  at  least. 

"  Madam,  I  had  not  considered  it,''  said 
Ains worth.  "  But  what  you  say  is  very  true. 
I  suggest  that  you  and  the  other  ladies  who 
do  not  want  to  be  jostled  remain  in  your 
offices  until  one  minute  past  four.  I  will 
guarantee  that  at  that  hour  you  will  not  be 
jostled  in  the  corridors  by  anything  except 
ghosts." 

Gage's  time  clock  was  attributed  to  the  in- 
cendiary advice  of  Vanderlip,  and  had  much 
to  do  with  the  threats  against  that  tyrant's 
life.  The  murdered  tyrant  Morris  was  also 
believed  to  have  recommended  something  of 
the  kind.  Its  adoption  was  due  to  the  clerkly 
habit  of  arriving  from  fifteen  minutes  to  half 
an  hour  behind  time  as  well  as  leaving  ahead 
of  time. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  from  the  Wash- 
ington viewpoint  the  complaints  of  the  clerks 
are  just,  and  the  officials  referred  to  actually 
do  appear  to  be  martinets,  really  infringing  on 
the  human  rights  of  their  subordinates.     No 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "   331 

one  has  lived  there  long  without  listening  to 
complaints  made  by  some  clerk  against  some 
bureau  chief,  complaints  made  in  perfect  good 
faith  and  with  firm  conviction  that  the  com- 
plainant had  been  most  outrageously  treated, 
when  the  acts  complained  of  were  simply  the 
ordinary  businesslike  methods  of  commercial 
houses. 

It  was  into  this  atmosphere  that  Mr.  Ware 
stepped.  The  clerks  were  glad  of  his  coming, 
for  Evans  had  been  one  of  the  tyrants  above 
described.  Their  joy  soon  turned  to  mourn- 
ing, for  King  Stork  proved  a  thousand  times 
worse  than  King  Log. 

Ware  never  compromised  with  the  easy- 
going manana  spirit  of  government  clerkism, 
and  went  out  of  office  one  of  the  best  hated 
men  who  ever  set  foot  in  Washington.  For 
whereas  other  businesslike  men  had  simply 
shouldered  their  burden  of  unpopularity  and 
gone  on  with  it.  Ware  was  a  fighter.  He 
could  not  comprehend  the  Washington  atmos- 
phere ;  his  gorge  rose  at  it,  and  he  fought  it 
with  all  the  powers  of  his  ironic  and  eccentric 
wit.  He  not  only  wrestled  with  it,  but  he 
ridiculed  it  and  emblazoned  his  scorn  of  it  in 
public  places. 

His  first  and  most  famous  eruption  of  this 
kind  was  in  the  case  of  Wiggins  of  Georgia, 


332   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

and  it  was  not  until  then  that  the  clerks  really 
sized  him  up.  They  had  already  found  him 
a  strange  customer,  and  he  had  mystified 
them.  One  woman  clerk  had  related  with 
great  indignation  how  she  had  gone  to  Ware 
and  had  explained  to  him  her  services,  her 
merit,  and  the  great  benefits  that  would  inure 
to  the  department  if  she  were  promoted.  She 
said  that  in  the  midst  of  her  statement  of  her 
merits  Ware  sprang  from  his  seat,  took  a  turn 
around  the  room,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  of 
absolute  anguish  : 

"  Madam,  you  are,  without  exception,  the 
most  egotistical  woman  I  ever  met." 

The  promotion  of  Wiggins  of  Georgia  was 
accompanied  by  the  bulletin,  conspicuously 
posted  in  the  Census  Office. 

October  18,  1902. 
Record   of  J.   S.    Wiggins    (Georgia)    is   as 
follows  : 

1.  Annual  leave  in  four  years,  fourteen 
days. 

2.  Not  a  day  sick  leave  in  eight  years. 

3.  On  merit,  excellent. 

4.  His  chief  recommends  him. 

5.  He  has  steered  no  statesmen  up  against 
the  commissioner. 

6.  He  has  not  told  the  commissioner  about 
his  pedigree  and  his  distinguished  relatives. 

7.  He  has  not  told  the  commissioner  how 


"THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE'*   333 

capable  be  (Wiggins)  is,  and  how  deserving  of 
promotion. 

Mr.  Wiggins  will  be  promoted  to-day  from 
$1,000  to  $1,200,  and  chiefs  are  requested  to 
furnish  the  commissioner  with  the  names  of 
all  others  in  the  bureau  with  a  similar  record. 

This  has  been  idiotically  commented  on  as 
if  Ware  were  setting  up  for  rising  young  men 
the  standard  of  never  taking  a  vacation.  It 
was  not  so  misunderstood  in  Washington. 
Every  malingering  or  soldiering  government 
clerk  felt  the  notice  to  have  been  intended  as 
a  rebuke  and  satire  to  himself,  and  hated  the 
commissioner  with  a  consuming  hatred. 

The  Washington  newspapers,  always  the 
stanch  defenders  of  the  clerks,  began  a  lam- 
pooning campaign  against  Ware  and  have 
never  let  up  on  him.  Ware  was  provoked 
into  new  and  severer  satires.  He  said  stinging 
things  and  posted  new  placards,  including  that 
which  read,  ''  The  Lord  hates  a  liar.'^  He 
introduced  a  new  system  of  promotions,  mak- 
ing his  bureau  chiefs  into  a  sort  of  civil  serv- 
ice commission,  directing  each  to  select  three 
men  from  whom  Ware  could  make  a  selection 
for  each  promotion.  In  his  letter  of  instruc- 
tions to  the  bureau  chiefs  he  said  : 

''  I  want  to  establish  an  incentive.  There- 
fore you  will  not  overlook  the  quiet  man  who 


334  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

attends  to  his  duty.  Do  not  forget  the  man 
who  has  no  statesman  interceding  for  him." 

The  ''  statesmen  "  ultimately  became  sore  in 
their  turn  at  the  frequent  satirical  references 
to  them  and  their  time-honored  habit  of  sug- 
gesting promotions.  When  the  Wiggins-of- 
Georgia  notice  appeared,  they  took  much 
umbrage  at  Section  5,  ''  He  has  steered  no 
statesmen  up  against  the  commissioner."  One 
Kansas  congressman  sent  a  man  to  Ware,  with 
instructions  to  say,  in  a  cold,  dignified  way, 
conveying  something  of  rebuke  and  reproach 
into  his  tone : 

*'  Mr.  Blank  has  instructed  me  to  say  that 
you  need  fear  no  requests  from  him  for  pro- 
motions of  clerks." 

The  messenger  delivered  the  message,  and 
waited  for  Ware  to  shrivel  and  wilt.  Ware 
thumped  his  desk  with  an  expression  of  genu- 
ine and  heartfelt  joy  and  said  : 

''  Fine  !     Fine  !  " 

This  occurred  before  Ware^s  character  was 
so  generally  understood  as  it  was  later. 

At  last  Ware  gave  up  his  long  fight  to 
make  a  hustling  place  out  of  Washington,  to 
make  Greek  fire  out  of  cold  molasses,  and 
went  back  to  Kansas.  But  while  he  was 
there  he  did  wonders.  It  is  cold  fact,  not  de- 
nied, that  the  office  never  was  run  in  so  busi- 


" THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE'^   335 

nesslike  a  manner  as  during  his  term  and  that 
the  government  never  before  got  anything 
like  so  much  for  its  money.  For  the  first 
time  in  the  entire  history  of  the  Pension  Office 
the  work  was  up-to-date  when  he  left.  Even 
the  most  optimistic  of  commissioners,  those 
who  did  most  towards  bringing  it  up,  never 
figured  on  a  time  when  that  would  come. 

At  the  dinner  of  the  Gridiron  Club,  in  De- 
cember, 1904,  there  was  an  imitation  Dead 
Letter  Office,  and  among  the  burlesque  letters 
read,  the  authorship  of  which  was  asked,  was 
the  following : 

Farewell !    Farewell ! 
This  office-holding  is  a  sell. 
I  tried  to  do  my  duty  well ; 
But  time  is  up,  I  hear  the  bell. 
Oh,  hell ! 

By  unanimous  consent  the  authorship  was 
attributed  to  Commissioner  Ware. 

Perhaps,  ''  resting  among  the  cyclones  of 
Kansas,'^  he  may  regain  his  ancient  cheerful- 
ness and  resume  his  pen,  although  when  asked 
just  before  he  went  home  if  he  intended  to 
write  any  more  poems,  he  replied,  "  Not  if  I 
feel  the  spell  coming  on  in  time." 

Away  back  among  the  half-forgotten  verses 
he  wrote  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  there  is  one 


336   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

which  certain  late  events  make  worthy  of  res- 
urrection. He  wrote  it  in  the  time  of  the 
Russo-Turkish  War,  and  it  was  entitled  "  The 
Siege  of  Djlkprwbz."     Thus  it  ran  : 

Before  a  Turkish  town 

The  Russians  came, 
And  with  huge  cannon 

Did  bombard  the  same. 

They  got  up  close 

And  rained  fat  bombshells  down, 
And  blew  out  every 

Vowel  in  the  town. 

And  then  the  Turks, 

Becoming  somewhat  sad, 
Surrendered  every 

Consonant  they  had. 

Those  who  were  stirred  to  profanity  in  the 
course  of  the  just  ended  Russo-Japanese  War 
profoundly  regretted  the  lack  of  a  laureate  of 
their  emotions.  Even  among  Mr.  Ware's 
worst  enemies,  the  government  clerks,  there 
probably  lingers  a  hope  that  he  will  not  feel 
the  spell  coming  on  in  time. 


VII 
COUNT  CASSINI,  A  DIPLOMATIC  IDEAL 

To  say  that  in  December,  1904,  the  dean  of 
the  Diplomatic  Corps  in  Washington  cele- 
brated the  fiftieth  anniversary  of  his  entry 
into  the  diplomatic  service  of  his  country  is 
to  conjure  up  the  vision  of  a  bent  and  aged 
man,  with  retirement  as  an  early  goal. 
Strongly  in  contrast  with  any  such  conception 
was  the  real  dean,  stalwart,  active,  vigorous, 
full  of  life  and  with  no  sign  of  age  about  him 
but  the  gray  in  the  hair  and  the  grizzle  of  the 
mustache. 

For  Count  Arthur  Cassini  was  only  eighteen 
years  of  age  when  he  entered  the  czar^s  serv- 
ice, and  he  is  a  youthful-looking  diplomat  to- 
day for  a  man  of  sixty-nine.  He  is  a  hand- 
some man,  handsome  in  face  and  figure,  well- 
proportioned  of  frame,  firm  of  step  and  bright 
of  eye.  He  looks  like  a  soldier,  and  like  one 
who  could  still  give  account  of  himself  on  the 
field.  And  if  there  are  not  many  years  of 
service  to  the  czar  still  before  him,  service  in 
exacting  and  difficult  posts  which  call  for  tact, 
energy  and  self-command,  nobody  will  be 
more  surprised  than  Count  Cassini  himself, 

337 


338   "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

The  memory  of  man  runneth  not  back  to 
the  time  when  there  has  been  in  Washington 
a  man  who  in  port  and  manner  so  filled  the 
measure  of  the  diplomatic  ideal.  There  is  an 
ideal  diplomat,  as  there  is  an  ideal  soldier  and 
an  ideal  statesman,  and  except  in  plays  the 
diplomat,  like  the  soldier  and  the  statesman, 
looks  little  like  that  ideal.  A  pudgy,  hoarse- 
voiced  diplomat,  a  mild  and  clerical-looking 
soldier,  a  low-statured  and  shrill-toned  states- 
man, are  the  commonest  of  truth's  satires  on 
the  ideal.    But  Count  Cassini  looks  what  he  is. 

He  is  gentle  in  voice,  and  there  is  in  his 
manner  something  that  invites  confidence  and 
puts  the  most  bashful  of  strangers  at  instant 
ease.  "  A  charming  man  '^  is  the  description 
always  fitted  to  Cassini  after  an  introduction 
and  conversation,  and  that  verdict, ''  a  charm- 
ing man,"  Cassini  has  been  hearing  about 
himself  throughout  all  the  fifty  years  in  which 
he  has  served  czar  after  czar. 

Which,  of  course,  does  not  mean  that  there 
is  anything  "  easy  "  about  him.  Russian  dip- 
lomats are  not  celebrated  for  that.  If  ever 
there  was  a  Russian  diplomat  who  was  con- 
fiding and  easy  to  hoodwink,  he  did  not  cele- 
brate a  golden  jubilee  in  the  service.  And  a 
rather  grim  respect,  somewhat  infused  with 
dread,  has  been  the  tribute  of  Cassini's  rivals 


THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  339 

from  countries  whose  interests  had  no  identity 
with  Cassini's. 

When  Cassini  arrived  in  Peking  as  envoy 
from  Russia,  he  prepared,  in  accordance  with 
custom,  to  present  his  credentials  to  the  em- 
peror. The  first  step  in  that  direction  was  to 
visit  the  Tsung-li-Yamen,  the  Chinese  foreign 
office.  The  almond-eyed  statesmen  who  com- 
posed it  received  him  with  Oriental  courtesy, 
and  after  the  usual  formal  preliminaries  were 
over  they  told  him  on  what  date  it  would 
please  the  emperor  to  receive  him. 

''  I  shall  then  appear  at  the  palace  on  that 
day '*  began  Count  Cassini. 

The  Tsung-li-Yamen  suppressed  their  smiles 
with  difficulty.  They  hastened  to  explain 
that  the  emperor  never  received  the  envoys 
of  barbarian  powers  at  the  palace.  They 
were  always  received  in  the  imperial  stables. 

The  new  minister  was  quite  well  aware  of 
that,  but  he  appeared  to  be  vastly  surprised. 
He  said  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  meet  the 
emperor  in  a  stable,  or  indeed  to  frequent  a 
stable  at  all  for  any  social  purposes.  The 
Tsung-li-Yamen,  with  forbearing  pity  for  the 
barbarian's  ignorance,  explained  that  the 
stables  were  really  quite  handsomely  fitted  up 
and  that  there  were  no  disagreeable  surround- 
ings. 


340  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  '^ 

"  I  understand  that/'  said  Count  Cassini. 
"  But  as  the  representative  of  my  imperial 
master,  I  cannot  meet  his  Majesty  anywhere 
except  in  the  palace/' 

That  could  never  be,  the  Tsung-li-Yamen 
said. 

''  Very  well,  gentlemen,"  said  Count  Cassini. 
''  It  desolates  me  to  say  that  I  cannot  present 
my  credentials  to  his  Majesty.  I  shall  furnish 
you  a  certified  copy  of  them,  so  that  we  can 
do  business  together,  but  it  will  be  impossible 
for  me  to  present  them  until  I  am  received  in 
Peking  as  the  Chinese  minister  is  received  in 
St.  Petersburg." 

"  We  fear  your  Excellency  will  grow  weary 
of  waiting,"  said  the  senior  dignitary  solici- 
tously. *'  For  you  will  never  be  received  in 
the  palace." 

''  You  have  patience,  gentlemen,"  said 
Count  Cassini.  ''  You  will  find  that  I  am  as 
patient  as  you." 

Then  he  withdrew.  He  sent  a  copy  of  his 
credentials  to  the  foreign  ofiice,  but  he  did  not 
see  the  emperor.  Alone  among  the  envoys  of 
the  barbarian  clans,  he  rigidly  refused  to  see 
the  Son  of  Heaven. 

Interest  in  this  wonderful  barbarian  spread 
rapidly  in  the  celestial  city.  The  man  who 
refused  to  see  the  emperor  became  a  subject 


"THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE"  341 

for  teacup  talk.  Human  curiosity  exists  even 
in  oriental  and  imperial  breasts,  and  it  was 
rumored  that,  as  the  years  went  on,  even  roy- 
alty was  prone  to  wonder  and  discuss  the  un- 
precedented situation. 

Strange  to  say,  Russia's  interests  did  not 
suffer.  The  new  minister  negotiated  several 
important  treaties  with  remarkable  success, 
always  working  with  the  Tsung-li-Yamen, 
which  grudgingly  recognized  the  certified 
copy.  He  negotiated  the  Manchurian  rail- 
way treaty,  the  treaty  to  regulate  telegraph 
concessions,  and  others  in  which  Russia's  in- 
terests were  opposed  to  those  of  the  other 
European  and  barbarian  countries,  and  in  no 
case  did  Russia  get  the  worst  of  it. 

One  day  there  was  to  be  a  grand  reception 
of  the  diplomats — in  the  stables  of  course. 
The  Diplomatic  Corps  went  to  the  residence 
of  its  dean.  Minister  von  Brandt  of  Germany, 
to  discuss  it.  The  arrangements  had  all  been 
made  when  the  Russian  minister  remarked 
casually  that,  of  course,  he  was  not  going. 

''  And  why  not  ?  "  said  Minister  von  Brandt. 

''  As  the  czar's  representative,  I  decline  to 
be  received  in  a  stable  by  anybody,"  said  the 
Russian. 

Minister  von  Brandt  felt  that  the  time  had 
come  to  rebuke  Cassini's  arrogant  folly,  and 


342  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

that  as  dean  the  duty  devolved  upon  him. 
''  As  for  me/'  he  said,  with  freezing  hauteur, 
"  wherever  the  emperor  wishes  to  see  me  I 
shall  be  glad  to  go." 

"  Yes,"  said  Cassini  calmly,  ''  even  if  he  re- 
ceives you  in  the  lavatory." 

Von  Brandt  turned  purple  and  the  other 
ministers  gasped.  Count  Cassini  withdrew 
and  left  them  to  wend  their  way  to  the  sta- 
bles. 

A  few  days  after  this  a  bombshell  fell  in  the 
Diplomatic  Corps.  The  emperor  had  con- 
ferred upon  the  Russian  envoy  the  Order  of 
the  Dragon,  the  greatest  of  Chinese  orders, 
which  no  one  of  the  other  diplomats  had  ever 
received.  They  could  hardly  believe  their 
ears  ;  it  must  be  a  joke  ;  but  it  was  not.  Cas- 
sini wore  the  order,  and  stayed  away  from  the 
palace  as  before. 

Then  the  war  with  Japan  broke  out,  and 
the  emperor  was  soon  in  a  tight  place.  He 
needed  Russian  assistance  to  snatch  from 
Japan  the  fruits  of  victory.  One  day  an  invi- 
tation was  conveyed  to  Count  Cassini  to  come 
to  the  palace.  He  went,  and  was  received  in 
Peking  as  the  Chinese  minister  is  received  in 
St.  Petersburg. 

And  this  is  the  true  story  of  how  it  hap- 
pens that  to-day  the  envoys  of  barbarian  pow- 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  343 

ers  are  received  in  the  palace  of  the  Son  of 
Heaven.  For  after  Cassini  had  been  received 
the  favor  was  gradually  extended  to  the 
others. 

But  in  all  the  discussion  this  affair  evoked 
among  the  members  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps 
there  was  one  question  which  recurred  oftener 
than  any  other.     And  it  was  this  : 

When  the  emperor  conferred  the  Order  of 
the  Dragon  upon  the  Russian  envoy,  had  he 
heard  the  story  of  the  lavatory  sarcasm  ?  Is 
it  possible  that  the  Chinese  have  a  sense  of 
humor  ? 

Perhaps  another  emperor,  he  of  Germany, 
heard  the  story.  At  any  rate.  Minister  von 
Brandt  was  soon  afterwards  recalled. 

In  the  long  game  which  Great  Britain  and 
Russia  have  been  playing  in  China  for  as- 
cendancy, each  move,  small  as  it  might  have 
been,  has  counted.  It  was  a  game  wherein 
there  were  no  moves  to  be  presented  to  the 
other  side.  When  Cassini  was  there,  Russia 
did  not  often  lose  a  trick. 

One  of  the  moves  in  the  game  was  the  es- 
tablishment of  a  diplomatic  language.  China 
had  gradually  been  won  to  see  that  there  were 
other  languages  beside  Chinese,  and  that  it 
might  be  well  to  adopt  a  European  one  for 
diplomatic   purposes.     French   is   the   diplo- 


344  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

matic  language  in  Europe,  and  France  is  the 
ally  of  Russia.  It  would  count  as  a  move  in 
the  game  to  have  China  adopt  English. 

Sir  Claude  Macdonald,  the  British  minister, 
engineered  the  thing  in  an  ingenious  manner, 
and  had  managed  it  so  craftily  that  he  had 
practically  won  his  object  without  a  hint  that 
he  was  even  playing  the  game  having  got  to 
the  ears  of  his  rivals,  or  rather  rival — for 
Russia  was  the  only  rival  England  feared  in 
the  Flowery  Kingdom. 

The  Tsung-li-Yamen  had  yielded  to  Macdon- 
ald's  arguments,  and  had  promised  that  Eng- 
lish should  be  adopted.  The  order  was  to  be 
duly  promulgated  on  a  certain  day,  and  things 
had  gotten  along  as  far  as  this  when  Cassini 
heard  of  it.  He  heard  of  most  things  that  he 
Wanted  to  know  about  in  Peking  ;  how  he 
heard  about  them  is  a  question  for  the  distrib- 
utors of  the  czar's  secret  service  fund.  Sir 
Claude  knew  of  this  ubiquity  of  the  gentle- 
voiced  Cassini's  ears,  and  had  gone  about  his 
work  with  particular  regard  thereto. 

The  time  was  short,  and  Cassini  knew  it 
would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  see  the  Tsung-li- 
Yamen.  Only  one  appeal  would  avail,  to  the 
empress  dowager.  Nothing  could  be  done  in 
the  way  of  seeing  that  omnipotent  person  if 
Sir  Claude  Macdonald  was  around. 


Copyright,  1904,  Clinedinst,  Wash.,  D.  C. 

COUNT  CASSINl.  ,  , 
"  A  youthful-looking  diplomat  for  a  man  of  sixty-nine." 


w 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  345 

To  the  Belgian  minister  came  a  suggestion 
from  the  count  that  it  would  be  a  fine  thing 
to  give  a  hunting  party.  The  Belgian  minis- 
ter fell  into  the  suggestion  with  alacrity,  and 
issued  invitations  to  the  entire  Diplomatic 
Corps.  The  idea  struck  them  all  as  magnifi- 
cent ;  great  was  the  enthusiasm,  and  particu- 
larly so  with  the  English,  who  were  yearning 
for  a  good  old-fashioned  hunt. 

On  the  day  that  the  hunt  was  to  take  place 
Count  Cassini  fell  ill,  but  the  other  diplomats 
were  on  hand.  As  soon  as  the  hunt  was  well 
under  way,  the  Russian  invalid  miraculously 
recovered  and  went  to  see  the  empress  dowa- 
ger. That  day  the  empress  notified  the 
Tsung-li-Yamen  that  the  official  diplomatic 
language  would  be  French.  When  the  diplo- 
matic hunters  returned  they  found  a  convales- 
cent colleague,  who  had  stayed  home  and 
bagged  bigger  game  than  any  of  them. 

In  this  country  Count  Cassini's  task  was 
unusually  difficult,  because  the  institutions  of 
this  land  are  so  different  from  Russia's.  It 
would  be  hard,  however,  to  find  a  man  by 
temperament  better  fitted  to  get  over  the  hard 
places  and  make  things  smooth.  His  task  of 
building  up  better  relations  between  the  two 
countries  he  wrought  at  with  the  gentle  per- 
sistence which  is  a  part  of  his  character,  and 


346  " THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE" 

also  with  perhaps  a  touch  of  that  resigned 
tolerance  which  envoys  of  despotic  powers  al- 
ways feel  towards  the  queer  characteristics  of 
this  inexplicably  shirt-sleeved  land. 

One  American  institution  which  gave  Count 
Cassini  a  great  deal  of  trouble  was  the  press. 
He  accepted  this  untrammeled  institution  as 
one  of  the  necessary  peculiarities  of  life  in  a 
country  so  different  from  his  own,  but  there 
were  things  about  it  that  he  never  did  get  en- 
tirely reconciled  to.  Criticism  of  himself, 
and  even  sensational  articles  in  so-called  ''  so- 
ciety "  journals  about  his  family,  concerned 
him  very  little.  What  came  as  near  as  any- 
thing could  to  disturbing  his  calmness  was  the 
appearance  of  vivid  articles  on  Russian  cus- 
toms and  habits,  generally  designed  to  prove 
that  Russian  society  is  fairly  representative  of 
the  infernal  regions. 

'*  Why  do  these  things  get  into  print  ?  "  he 
asked  one  day,  lifting  from  his  desk  a  highly 
entertaining  "  Sunday  story,"  depicting  some 
peculiarly  atrocious  institution  of  torture 
which  was  veraciously  alleged  to  be  one  of  the 
recognized  and  commonplace  features  of  Rus- 
sian life.  He  raised  his  eyebrows  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders  with  an  expression  of  patient 
pain. 

"  Can  you  explain  to  me,  my  friend  ?  "  he 


«  THE  OTHEE  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '^  347 

went  on.  "  It  is  not  true,  of  course,  this 
thing  ;  neither  is  there  any  truth  in  the  others 
like  it.  We  are  not  savages.  I  have  seen 
these  things  many  times,  but  never  can  I  get 
over  my  astonishment.  Each  time  I  see  one 
of  them  I  am  amazed  again,  and  always  ask 
the  question,  ^  Why  do  men  write  these  things, 
and  if  they  are  written,  why  are  they 
printed  ?  '     Can  you  tell  me  ?  '^ 

The  explanation  offered  in  reply  as  the  most 
probable  one  did  not  seem  to  enlighten  Count 
Cassini  very  much.  "  It  may  be,"  he  said. 
"  But  still  I  do  not  understand  why  these 
things  are  printed.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  to 
be  American.  Some  things  are  American  and 
some  are  un-American,  and  if  I  have  learned 
anything  about  the  American  spirit  these 
things  are  not  a  part  of  it." 

When  Representative  Goldfogle  introduced 
his  resolution  calling  on  the  government  to 
take  steps  for  the  securing  of  better  treatment 
for  American  Jews  visiting  Russia,  a  friend 
of  Count  Cassini's  asked  him  what  he  thought 
of  Goldfogle.  The  friend  expected  something 
in  the  way  of  criticism  or  sarcasm. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you  have  a  very  high 
opinion  of  him,"  he  added. 

"  Why  not  ? "  answered  Count  Cassini. 
''  Mr.  Goldfogle  was  here  yesterday,  and  took 


348  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

dinner  with  me.  He  is  a  very  pleasant  gen« 
tleman." 

And,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  had  discussed 
the  whole  question  with  the  greatest  friendli- 
ness. Perhaps  this  anecdote  will  not  con- 
vey much  significance  outside  of  Washington. 
It  may  be  necessary  to  say  in  explanation, 
whether  the  explanation  reflects  much  credit 
on  the  Diplomatic  Corps  or  not,  that  Count 
Cassini  was  nearly  the  only  one  of  the  lot 
about  whom,  under  such  circumstances,  such 
an  anecdote  could  have  been  written. 

There  is  a  strong  streak  of  sentiment  in 
Count  Cassini's  nature.  He  does  not  attempt 
to  conceal  it  from  his  friends,  either,  as  the 
average  Anglo-Saxon  would  do,  and  as  per- 
haps most  others  would  do.  One  of  his  pas- 
sions is  poetry,  particularly  French  poetry. 
He  has  a  great  collection  of  it,  and  likes  to 
quote. 

He  has  other  collections,  and  in  two  of  them 
he  takes  a  good  deal  of  pride.  One  is  a  col- 
lection of  arms,  made  gradually  during  his 
fifty  years'  experience.  Originally  it  is  said 
to  have  been  one  of  the  most  wonderful  col- 
lections in  the  world,  for  in  these  fifty  years 
the  sovereigns  in  every  land  where  he  has 
been  stationed,  knowing  his  hobby,  have  made 
him  presents  of  unusual  and  curious  weapons 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  349 

of  their  countries.  Unfortunately  a  great 
part  of  the  collection  was  lost  at  sea,  includ- 
ing many  of  the  most  valuable  gifts  from 
monarchs. 

Another  is  a  collection  of  cigarette  cases. 
He  has  six  thousand  of  them,  many  of  them 
expensively  made  and  of  great  value.  A  good 
many  have  been  presents  from  monarchs  and 
nobles,  and  the  cases  come  from  every  country 
on  the  civilized  globe. 

Representing  the  great  autocracy  of  civili- 
zation, Count  Cassini  was  the  most  democratic 
man  in  the  corps,  and  this  despite  the  fact 
that  he  is  unmistakably  a  "  grand  seigneur." 
He  was  approachable,  easy  and  affable,  though 
never  undignified.  There  has  seldom  been  in 
Washington  a  diplomat  whose  personal  charm 
was  so  great  or  whose  manners  were  so  simple 
and  plain. 


VIII 

DUNNELL:    A   PORTEAIT  PROM  THE   PRESS 
GALLERY 

One  of  the  strongest  characters  and  sharp- 
est individualities  that  ever  left  their  impress 
on  the  life  of  Washington  passed  away  in  the 
death  of  Elbridge  Gerry  Dunnell  at  East 
Orange  in  1905. 

''  Dunnell,  famous  for  a  bitter,  frank  integ- 
rity,'' is  the  description  Alfred  Henry  Lewis 
gives  of  him  in  one  of  his  books,  and  it  is  so 
accurate  that  even  the  word  ''  famous  "  is  cor- 
rect if  understood  in  the  sense  only  in  which 
a  newspaper  correspondent  can  have  fame. 
The  fame  of  Dunnell  was  among  newspaper 
men  and  public  men ;  he  was  the  friend  of 
many  presidents  and  of  countless  men  more 
famous  in  the  public  eye  than  he,  but  not 
nearly  so  well  known  nor  so  highly  esteemed 
in  the  life  of  the  national  capital. 

In  the  twenty  years  during  which  he  was 
the  correspondent  of  The  New  York  Times  at 
Washington  few  public  men  were  better  known 
here  than  he,  and  none  more  respected  or 
feared.  He  walked  straight  his  own  road, 
with  an  integrity  that  was  fairly  violent  and 
an  independence  that  was  almost  shocking. 

350 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  351 

He  was  a  man  of  downright  ways  and  rug- 
ged manner,  and  he  came  as  near  to  being  an 
absolutely  truthful  man  as  any  human  being 
ever  did,  for  he  never  hesitated  to  express  his 
opinion  to  the  face  of  the  man  of  whom  he 
entertained  it.  For  many  years  this  made 
him  enemies,  a  fact  of  which  he  was  perfectly 
aware  and  for  which  he  cared  as  little  as  for 
the  adverse  opinion  of  so  many  bumblebees. 
In  later  years  all  antagonism  died  away,  and 
his  last  years  in  Washington  were  spent  in 
the  midst  of  praise,  though  he  never  moder- 
ated his  plain-spoken  ways  to  the  last. 

Even  presidents,  accustomed  to  flattery  and 
at  the  worst  to  barely  suggested  criticism,  met 
with  no  such  tribute  from  Bunnell,  and  re- 
spected him  none  the  less  for  it.  On  Presi- 
dent Roosevelt's  sensational  stumping  tour  in 
1900,  in  which  he  was  mobbed  in  Colorado 
and  hooted  down  in  Kentucky  and  in  parts  of 
New  York,  he  came  into  his  car  after  a  partic- 
ularly rough  experience  and  said  to  Bunnell, 
who  accompanied  him  : 

"  I  wonder  why  it  is  that  people  seem  so 
fond  of  throwing  rocks  at  me?  " 

"  It  is  because  your  manner  invites  rocks," 
answered  Bunnell,  in  his  abrupt,  staccato 
manner. 

Later,  shortly  after  Mr.  Roosevelt  became 


352  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

president,  he  issued  several  denials  of  erron- 
eous newspaper  stories  about  him.  Bunnell 
called  at  the  White  House  and  found  the 
president  much  exercised  about  a  new  canard, 
which  he  was  about  to  deny. 

"  You  ought  not  to  deny  them,"  replied 
Dunnell.  "■  The  lies  will  kill  themselves. 
The  president  of  the  United  States  does  not 
need  to  kill  them." 

After  the  Booker  Washington  luncheon  the 
president,  then  breasting  a  torrent  of  criticism, 
greeted  Dunnell  with,  ''  How  are  you,  Dun- 
nell ?  I'm  glad  to  see  you.  I  need  not  de- 
fend myself  from  you,  at  least,  for  having 
Booker  Washington  to  lunch." 

"  No,"  said  Dunnell.  "  But  it  wasn't  neces- 
sary for  you  to  do  it." 

It  means  more  in  Washington  than  it  can 
mean  to  the  outside  world  that  Dunnell  was 
for  eight  years  the  official  head  of  the  body 
of  newspaper  correspondents  in  that  city. 
The  Press  Committee,  biennially  elected  by 
the.  one  hundred  and  fifty  or  two  hundred 
correspondents  there,  is  recognized  by  Con- 
gress as  an  official  body.  It  has  practically 
absolute  control  over  the  fortunes  of  the  corps. 
It  can  refuse  admission  to  the  gallery  to  any 
man,  and  this  carries  far  more  than  the  mere 
refusal  of  a  seat.     It  places  the  official  stamp 


" THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE'^   353 

of  disapproval  on  such  a  man  and,  where  the 
rejection  is  made  on  charges  and  after  trial, 
usually  ends  by  driving  him  out  of  the  busi- 
ness. 

Bunnell,  the  bitter  of  tongue,  was  for  four 
Congresses  the  head  of  this  body.  Men  who 
were  writhing  under  his  unsparing  sarcasm  or 
blunt  condemnation  yet  voted  for  him  because 
they  knew  the  interests  of  the  corps  and  its 
reputation  would  be  absolutely  safe  in  those 
incorruptible  hands  of  his. 

Graft  lies  in  every  corner  of  this  political 
city,  ready  to  worm  its  way  in  wherever  the 
least  opening  is  afforded.  Adventurers  flock 
here,  seeking  any  handle  that  may  offer  itself. 
With  the  immense  opportunities  open  to  the 
newspaper  corps,  graft  is  as  ready  to  inject 
itself  there  as  anywhere  else.  The  press  gal- 
lery is  the  cleanest  spot  in  Washington  life, 
but  it  is  not  due  to  any  hesitancy  or  bashful- 
ness  on  the  part  of  the  adventurers.  It  is  due 
to  the  untiring  watchfulness  of  the  correspond- 
ents themselves. 

This  watchfulness  has  to  be  exercised 
through  officials  recognized  by  Congress  and 
clothed  with  power,  and  hence  the  Press  Com- 
mittee. The  correspondents  know  the  neces- 
sity of  having  men  not  only  honest  but  strong 
in  that  place  of  power.     There  is  not  a  cor- 


354  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

respondent  in  Washington  of  many  years' 
standing  who  does  not  remember  to  have 
overheard  or  participated  in  the  following 
conversation  at  every  biennial  election  : 

''They're  trying  to  beat  Bunnell  because  of 
his  sharp  tongue.  Are  you  going  to  vote  for 
him?" 

"  You  bet  I  am,  though  he  jumped  on  me 
the  other  day.  With  him  on  the  committee 
the  gallery  will  be  kept  clean." 

It  used  to  be  a  proverb  in  the  press  gallery 
that  Bunnell  would  throw  his  own  brother 
out  of  the  gallery  if  he  suspected  the  slightest 
blemish  on  his  honesty.  Certainly  no  appeal 
to  friendship  ever  saved  a  grafter  from  Dun- 
nell. 

The  admiration  for  his  uncompromising 
character  and  his  rough  honesty  so  mounted 
in  later  years  that  he  could  no  longer  arouse 
hostility  and  hardly  irritation  by  his  plain- 
ness of  speech.  He  won  not  only  respect  but 
popularity,  and,  from  the  younger  element  at 
least,  affection. 

Bunnell  was  an  intimate  friend  of  President 
Arthur,  under  whom  he  began  his  service  in 
Washington.  Later  he  became  close  to  Presi- 
dent Cleveland,  but  at  the  outset  of  that  admin- 
istration, before  the  new  president  had  come 
to  know  the  different  correspondents,  he  of 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''   355 

course  did  not  fare  better  than  any  one  else ; 
in  fact,  Bunnell  won  his  way  to  each  new 
president  solely  by  virtue  of  the  esteem  and 
respect  which  the  presidents  came  to  feel  for 
him  after  they  knew  him. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  first  Cleveland  ad- 
ministration a  good  many  of  the  newspaper 
correspondents  found  things  a  good  deal 
changed.  Particularly  was  this  the  case  in 
the  War  Department.  Secretary  Endicott  was 
a  man  of  no  national  experience.  He  came  of 
the  blue-blooded  old  family  founded  by  the 
colonial  governor,  and  had  the  rigidity  and 
hauteur  of  a  British  peer.  He  came  to  Wash- 
ington knowing  nothing  of  its  ways,  and  the 
correspondents  found  that  to  approach  Endi- 
cott was  somewhat  more  difficult  than  to  be- 
come chummy  with  the  czar. 

They  revealed  in  print  the  absurd  cere- 
monies of  approach  to  Endicott,  but  at  first  he 
took  it  to  be  merely  partisan  criticism.  When 
Bunnell  gave  an  account  of  the  progress  to 
the  throne-room,  however,  as  it  was  done  in  a 
paper  supporting  the  administration,  Endicott 
perceived  that  perhaps  he  had  not  learned 
how  to  fit  in  with  Washington  customs.  He 
sent  for  Bunnell  and  told  him  that  he  was 
sorry  to  learn  that  the  newspaper  men  thought 
him  discourteous. 


356  "  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  " 

Endicott  could  not  to  save  his  life  unbend 
and  become  democratic,  but  he  did  his  best  in 
this  interview  and  thought  he  had  succeeded. 
"  I  assure  you,"  concluded  the  fine  old  aristo- 
crat, ''that  I  have  no  wish  to  make  matters 
difficult  for  newspaper  men.  In  fact,"  he 
added,  with  frosty  graciousness,  ''  in  Massa- 
chusetts I  have  always  been  glad  to  patronize 
them." 

The  character  of  Dunnell  has  been  imper- 
fectly indicated  if  any  one  who  reads  this  has 
any  doubt  about  how  the  word  ''  patronized  " 
struck  his  ears.  As  Endicott  ceased  and 
looked  expectantly  at  Dunnell,  the  latter  said  : 

"  Mr.  Secretary,  I'm  obliged  to  you,  and  I'd 
like  to  reply  by  telling  you  a  story." 

Endicott  looked  a  little  shocked  and  raised 
his  gray  eyebrows  at  so  plebeian  a  proposition 
as  to  conduct  a  discussion  by  means  of  story- 
telling.    But  he  signed  to  Dunnell  to  go  on. 

''  You  may  remember,  Mr.  Secretary,"  said 
Dunnell,  ''  that  in  former  days  the  w^haling 
vessels  that  set  out  from  your  State  were  not 
commanded  by  saints.  The  captains  used  to 
knock  their  men  about  with  anything  that 
came  handy  by  way  of  argument.  One  whal- 
ing vessel  set  out  under  command  of  a  cap- 
tain who  had  the  habit  of  knocking  his  men 
down   with    a    belaying    pin   whenever    he 


"  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE ''   367 

wanted  to  explain  anything,  and  he  was  par- 
ticularly severe  on  his  mate. 

**  He  used  to  cuss  the  mate — if  you'll  ex- 
cuse the  word,  Mr.  Secretary — and  beat  him 
over  the  head  and  raise  the  devil  with  him 
generally.  The  mate  stood  it  with  patience 
that  kept  growing  less  and  less  till  he  was  al- 
most at  the  point  of  revolt. 

''  At  this  juncture  they  sighted  a  whale. 
The  captain  was  below  that  morning,  having 
had  too  much  of  a  tussle  with  Medford  rum 
the  night  before.  The  mate  took  charge  of 
the  whole  thing,  and  they  were  cutting  the 
blubber  into  strips  when  the  captain  came  on 
deck. 

^'  He  was  delighted,  and  he  thumped  the 
mate  on  the  back  with  joy.  ^  By  jingo,'  he 
roared,  '  you  are  the  best  mate  that  ever  sailed 
with  me.  You  are  a  wonder.  You  are  a 
daisy.     You ' 

"  The  mate  had  been  standing  with  his 
arms  folded  on  his  chest  and  his  brow  bent  in 
a  scowl.  He  turned  around  and  interrupted 
the  flow  of  praise. 

"  '  Captain,'  said  he,  ^  compliments  is  all 
very  well ;  but  what  we've  got  to  have  on  this 
ship,  if  you  and  me  is  to  get  along  together, 
is  ci — vil — I — tee,  of  the  darndest,  damnedest, 
commonest  kind  ! '  " 


358   "  THE  OTHEE  END  OF  THE  AVENUE '' 

The  secretary  gave  a  shocked  little  laugh, 
and  said  "  Very  good,"  and  Bunnell  went  out. 
From  that  day  newspaper  men  had  no  trouble 
with  the  War  Department. 

Of  course  it  goes  without  saying  that  public 
men  could  confide  all  sorts  of  secrets  to  Bun- 
nell without  the  slightest  danger  of  ever  see- 
ing them  in  print  if  they  were  given  under 
the  seal  of  confidence.  That  sort  of  thing  is 
the  rule  in  Washington  ;  but  in  addition  to 
that,  Bunnell  had  a  bitter,  burning  hatred  of 
any  man  who  violated  the  rule.  He  resented 
it  as  a  personal  injury,  and  the  most  blazing- 
words  in  his  rich  vocabulary  of  scorn  were  the 
portion  of  any  one  who  was  guilty  in  that 
way.  For  he  regarded  it  as  an  injury  to  the 
newspaper  corps,  whose  honor  he  held  as  dear 
as  his  own. 

He  collapsed  in  health  on  the  first  day  of 
the  Schley  inquiry,  and  should  have  retired 
from  business  at  once ;  but  with  dogged  per- 
tinacity he  stuck  to  his  desk,  resisting  all  at- 
tempts to  make  him  leave  his  post.  He  could 
not  attend  the  hearings  of  the  court,  but  he 
looked  forward  eagerly  to  the  day  when  a 
certain  bosom  friend  of  his  was  to  testify. 
When  the  day  carne  he  impatiently  awaited 
the  arrival  of  the  subordinate  who  covered  the 
hearings. 


«  THE  OTHER  END  OF  THE  AVENUE  "  359 

'*  Well,"  he  cried,  when  the  assistant  came 
in,  ''  how  did  my  friend  Commander  Blank 
show  up?  " 

^'  To  be  frank,"  was  the  answer,  *'  Schley's 
counsel  made  a  monkey  of  him.  I  hate  to 
say  it,  as  he  is  your  friend.  Do  you  want 
his  defeat  toned  down  any  in  my  story  ?  " 

^'  Not  by  a  damned  sight !  "  was  the  uncom- 
promising retort.  ^*  Friend  or  no  friend,  you 
tell  just  what  happened.     We  print  the  news." 

And  yet  one  day,  when  an  assistant  brought 
in  a  story  which,  if  told  literally,  would  have 
inflicted  pain  on  a  certain  man  of  gentle  and 
retiring  ways  and  soft  heart,  Bunnell  refused 
to  have  it  written  that  way.  It  was  a  curious 
and  unexpected  touch  of  inconsistency  in  a 
character  of  iron  consistency,  but  it  was  not 
the  only  case  of  the  kind. 

From  that  illness  of  1901  he  never  recovered, 
and  now  he  is  dead.  The  light  of  esteem  and 
affection  that  played  around  him,  particularly 
in  his  later  years,  hovers  now  over  his  grave. 
The  vacancy  his  going  makes  in  the  ranks  of 
his  old  colleagues  is  in  their  hearts  as  well  as 
in  their  respect.  He  was  a  man  unique  in  his 
way ;  and  the  memory  he  has  left  is  exactly 
that  which  Ingersoll  ascribed  to  Conkling : 

'*  The  memory  of  a  brave,  imperious,  honest 
man,  who  bowed  alone  to  death." 


V 
OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 


I 

BRYAN  THE  FIGHTER 

There  are  few  men  who  have  ever  person- 
ally known  William  J.  Bryan  without  both 
liking  and  respecting  him.  The  people  who 
have  managed  to  keep  up  a  bitter  hostility  to 
him  are  able  to  do  it  only  by  not  meeting  him. 
The  easy  explanation  of  personal  magnetism 
does  not  account  for  it.  Magnetism  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  it,  or  precious  little. 

What  silences  men  when  they  come  to  know 
Bryan  is  not  such  personal  magnetism  as  he 
has  got,  but  simply  the  effect  produced  upon 
the  average  man  by  the  conviction  that  in 
knowing  Bryan  he  knows  an  honest,  manly, 
square  man,  one  who  believes  everything  he 
believes,  and  one  who  is  a  most  tremendous 
fighter. 

The  time  has  gone  by  when  the  words 
''charlatan,''  ''demagogue"  and  "trickster" 
were  chirped  at  Bryan  by  any  man  who  had 
ever  met  him.  The  same  men  may  hate  him 
to-day,  but  they  know  the  grotesque  inappli- 
cability of  words  like  these.     They  may  find 

363 


364  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

other  words  to  express  their  honest  disap- 
proval and  dread  of  him,  but  not  these.  He 
has  lived  such  words  down,  as  Henry  George 
did. 

In  the  year  1896,  the  New  York  Tribune, 
in  summing  up  the  result  on  the  day  after 
Bryan's  defeat,  said  : 

''  The  wretched,  rattle-pated  boy,  posing  in 
vapid  vanity  and  mouthing  resounding  rot- 
tenness, was  not  the  real  leader  of  that  league 
of  hell.  He  was  only  a  puppet  in  the  blood- 
imbrued  hands  of  Altgeld  the  anarchist  and 
Debs  the  revolutionist  and  other  desperadoes 
of  that  stripe.  But  he  was  a  willing  puppet, 
Bryan  was,  willing  and  eager.  Not  one  of 
his  masters  was  more  apt  than  he  at  lies  and 
forgeries  and  blasphemies  and  all  the  nameless 
iniquities  of  that  campaign  against  the  Ten 
Commandments.  He  goes  down  with  the 
cause,  and  must  abide  with  it  in  the  history 
of  infamy.  He  had  less  provocation  than 
Benedict  Arnold,  less  intellectual  force  than 
Aaron  Burr,  less  manliness  and  courage  than 
Jefferson  Davis.  He  was  the  rival  of  them  all 
in  deliberate  wickedness  and  treason  to  the 
Republic.  His  name  belongs  with  theirs, 
neither  the  most  brilliant  nor  the  least  hateful 
in  the  list." 

This  differs  from  the  other  newspaper  esti- 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  365 

mates  of  Bryan  in  that  year  only  in  being 
somewhat  more  tersely  put. 

Times  have  changed.  This  would  no  longer 
seem  a  calm,  dispassionate  and  reasonably  ac- 
curate description  of  Bryan  even  to  violent 
antagonists  who  have  never  been  disarmed  by 
meeting  him. 

Shortly  before  the  national  convention  of 
1904,  an  acquaintance  was  arguing  with  Mr. 
Bryan  about  the  folly  and  futility  of  his 
course.  The  Democratic  party,  it  will  be  re- 
membered, was  about  to  be  united.  All  hands 
were  to  forget  their  old  differences  and  come 
together  on  a  platform  that  would  not  hurt 
anybody's  feet.  Most  of  the  old  Bryanites 
were  to  be  in  line — and  were,  as  a  matter  of 
fact.  The  radicals  of  four  years  ago  were 
crowding  the  ''  gold-bugs  "  for  room  on  the 
platform.  Senator  Carmack  of  Tennessee  was 
in  the  front  rank.  Even  General  Weaver, 
who  had  come  into  the  Democratic  party  by 
the  Greenback  route,  was  at  least  ready  to  be 
silent.  Senator  Dubois,  wdio  had  left  the 
Republican  party  because  it  would  not  stand 
for  free  silver,  was  one  of  the  reorganized 
party's  generals.  Senator  Tillman,  though  dis- 
posed to  be  skeptical,  was  silent  and  acquies- 
cent for  the  sake  of  party  harmony. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  there  wasn't  a 


366  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

Bryanite  who  was  off  the  reservation,  except 
Bryan.  The  only  jar  in  the  general  harmony 
was  made  by  the  motley  aggregation  under 
the  banner  of  Hearst ;  and  they  were  not 
Bryanites,  but  radicals  to  whom  Bryan  was  a 
conservative  ;  mingled,  of  course,  with  politi- 
cians who  supported  Hearst  for  other  reasons, 
without  caring  a  cent  what  his  principles  were. 

Bryan,  deserted  and  hopelessly  alone,  was 
still  standing  out.  He  was  being  urged  and 
implored  by  his  friends  to  come  into  camp. 
His  enemies  were  scoffing  at  him,  as  a  broken 
and  discredited  leader  whose  end  was  political 
suicide.  He  was  subjected  to  such  pressure  as 
few  men  have  ever  had  to  stand  up  against. 
He  was  standing  up  against  it  with  that  calm, 
imperturbable  good  humor  which  is  his  main 
surface  characteristic.  Neither  friends  nor 
enemies  doubted  that  he  was  deliberately  kill- 
ing himself  as  a  political  leader. 

His  acquaintance  undertook  to  argue  the 
case.  First  he  pointed  out  the  political  ruin 
which  was  inevitable  if  he  persisted  in  fight- 
ing single-handed  his  united  party. 

Bryan  said  he  believed  in  standing  by  his 
principles. 

"  That  may  be  all  right  for  you,''  said  the 
acquaintance,  '^  but  how  can  you  ever  expect 
to  get  anywhere  with  it  ?     You  don't  have  to 


out  IN  THE  FIELi)  ,16? 

abandon  your  principles  ;  only  not  to  obtrude 
them  where  it  is  hopeless.  It's  all  very  well 
for  you  to  stand  out  forever  for  your  princi- 
ples, but  how  can  you  get  the  rank  and  file 
Democrat  to  go  with  you  ?  He  doesn't  un- 
derstand these  principles ;  all  he  sees  is  that 
he  is  getting  his  mail  from  a  Republican  post- 
master and  that  he'd  like  to  hand  out  that 
mail  himself" 

Bryan  said  he  was  not  in  despair  about  ul- 
timate success  ;  by  standing  for  one's  princi- 
ples one  might  sometime  win,  even  if  not  now. 

'^  Not  in  1908,"  said  his  acquaintance. 

"Well,  in  1912,"  said  Mr.  Bryan. 

"  No,  sir,  not  in  1912." 

"  Well,  in  1916,  then,"  said  Mr.  Bryan. 

"  Not  in  1916,"  was  the  emphatic  answer, 
''  not  in  1920,  not  in  1924,  not  in  seventy-five 
years." 

"Well,  in  seventy-five  years,  then,"  said 
Mr.  Bryan. 

It  does  not  appear  that  much  headway  can 
be  made  with  a  man  like  this  by  talking  to 
him  about  pecuniary  or  political  success.  Yet 
in  1900  Mr.  Joseph  Pulitzer  addressed  to  Mr. 
Bryan  a  personal  letter  strongly  urging  him 
to  moderate  somewhat  the  violence  of  his  in- 
sistence upon  his  principles.  Mr.  Pulitzer 
pointed  out  how  Bryan  could  advance  himself 


368  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

in  his  party,  win  the  presidency,  secure  the 
support  of  the  East,  etc.  Every  argument  in 
the  letter  was  addressed,  not  to  a  sincere  and 
unselfish  statesman,  but  to  a  politician  seeking 
his  own  advancement.  Mr.  Bryan  replied, 
good-naturedly  declining,  even  at  the  cost  of 
losing  the  support  of  the  World,  Mr.  Pulitzer 
secured  his  consent  to  the  publication  of  the 
letter.  It  evidently  never  occurred  to  Mr. 
Pulitzer,  and  probably  not  to  many  of  his 
readers,  that  in  publishing  this  correspondence 
Mr.  Pulitzer  was  painting  the  portrait  of  the 
real  Bryan,  and  of  a  Bryan  vastly  different 
from  the  one  to  whom  the  first  letter  was  ad- 
dressed. 

Bryan  in  a  fight  is  an  interesting  sight  to 
see.  He  never  loses  his  temper,  never  abates 
a  jot  of  his  grip  upon  that  flowing  good 
humor  of  his,  and  never  loses  an  atom  of 
his  self-control.  Yet  he  differs  in  aspect  from 
the  politicians  who  enter  a  fight  with  the 
"  gambler's  eye.''  The  gambler's  eye  is  apart 
of  that  steady,  imperturbable  face  which  be- 
longs to  race-track  men  and  to  many  politi- 
cians of  the  type  of  Patrick  H.  McCarren. 
With  it  goes  the  low  voice  and  the  equable 
temperament.  ''  Bull  "  Andrews,  Quay's  old 
lieutenant  in  Pennsylvania,  is  a  fine  example 
of  this  type. 


WILLIAM   J.    BRYAN.    .*    ^  . 
* »    » 

"  A  good  fighter  and  a  square  man." 


OUT  IN  THE  FIET.D  369 

But  this  steady,  calm  stolidity  is  utterly 
apart  from  Bryan's  calmness.  He  is  the  pic- 
ture of  activity  and  life.  His  eyes  gleam 
with  the  joy  of  fighting  ;  he  is  in  his  element ; 
he  does  not  even  lose  or  conceal  his  keen  per- 
ception of  the  ludicrous,  even  when  the  joke 
is  on  himself. 

No  greater  fight,  single-handed,  was  ever 
made  than  the  one  he  made  at  the  St.  Louis 
Convention  of  1904.  Everything  was  over 
when  he  arrived  there,  but  he  refused  to  admit 
it.  He  set  himself  to  the  task  of  overruling  a 
decision  already  made,  of  overturning  a 
pledged  majority.  He  was  in  the  thick  of 
every  fight ;  in  the  Committee  on  Resolutions, 
in  the  fight  over  credentials.  He  was  all  alone, 
and  so  he  could  not  miss  a  single  fight ;  there 
was  no  lieutenant  to  whom  to  turn  the  job 
over.  He  fiashed  from  one  room,  where  a 
fight  had  been  just  completed,  to  another, 
there  to  carry  on  the  next  one.  Of  course  he 
did  not  sleep.  After  the  battles  of  the  day 
and  night  were  over  there  were  the  plans  for 
the  next  day  to  make,  and  belated  persons  to  see. 

He  was  there  several  days  before  the  con- 
vention met,  and  he  probably  got  a  few  hours' 
sleep  in  that  time  ;  but  he  did  not  have  over 
an  hour's  sleep  from  the  day  the  convention 
met,  on  the  morning  of  July  6,  to  the  morn- 


370  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

ing  of  July  9,  when  Parker  was  nominated. 
The  battle  in  the  Committee  on  Resolutions 
alone  lasted  through  an  entire  night  and 
morning.  The  other  fighters  could  get  rest ; 
but  the  single-handed  fighter  could  not. 

All  these  days  were  days  of  herculean  bat- 
tle. Alone  he  beat  the  triumphant  chieftain, 
David  B.  Hill,  to  his  knees  in  the  Committee 
on  Resolutions,  and  in  an  all-night  battle 
forced  that  compromise  which  later  was  un- 
done by  Parker's  famous  "  Gold  Telegram." 
What  this  feat  meant  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
vey to  any  one  who  was  not  there.  It  de- 
served a  place  in  Andrew  Lang's  collection  of 
the  "great  fights  of  one  against  a  multitude." 
Lang  was  able  to  find  only  four,  including  the 
fight  of  Hereward  the  Strong  and  the  fight  of 
Bussy  d'  Amboise.  The  ways  of  fighting 
have  changed,  and  the  weapons  were  not  the 
same,  but  that  is  all  the  difference. 

This  battle,  fought  all  night  long,  was  pro- 
longed until  about  noon  of  July  8.  When,  at 
the  close  of  the  morning  session,  Ollie  James 
of  Kentucky  upreared  himself  to  all  of  his  vast 
height  and  in  stentorian  tones  announced  that 
the  Committee  on  Resolutions  had  "  unani- 
mously "  agreed  on  a  platform,  there  were  all 
the  elements  of  an  explosion  to  beat  all  con- 
vention records.     For  the   Bryan ites    in  the 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  371 

galleries  knew  the  annoancement  was  a  vic- 
tory for  the  single-handed  fighter,  and  the 
moment  the  other  side  had  finished  their  ap- 
plause at  the  news  that  there  was  to  be  har- 
mony a  shrill  yell  of  ^'  Hurrah  for  Bryan !  " 
burst  from  the  turbulent  mob  there. 

The  demonstration  was  on  and  off  in  a 
moment.  Champ  Clark,  the  chairman, 
quelled  it  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  person- 
ality. It  was  not  so  much  the  bang  of  his 
gavel  as  the  fact  that  for  more  than  an  hour 
he  had  been  instilling  into  the  minds  of  the 
noisy  occupants  of  the  galleries  the  fact  that 
he  was  not  a  man  to  be  trifled  with.  Through- 
out the  whole  morning  session  he  had  cracked 
the  whip  in  a  manner  that  compelled  respect 
for  his  orders.  And  it  was  a  session  that 
would  have  got  away  from  a  feeble  man,  a 
session  of  long  waits  for  the  committee's  report, 
with  nothing  but  speechmaking  and  band 
playing  to  while  away  the  time ;  a  session  in 
which  turbulence  seemed  the  natural  employ- 
ment of  the  twelve  thousand  restless  Amer- 
ican citizens  out  for  a  holiday. 

He  had  done  it  at  the  very  start,  when  his 
bulldog  head  and  heavy  shoulders  first  ap- 
peared above  the  crowd  on  the  speakers'  plat- 
form. It  always  took  a  lot  of  banging  to 
bring   about   order,    but   the   way   in    which 


372  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  , 

Champ  Clark's  lips  were  compressed  together 
and  his  square  chin  projected  had  more  effect 
in  quieting  the  crowd  than  all  the  clamor  he 
made  with  the  gavel.  When  there  was  order 
he  sent  forth  this  menace  in  a  slow  roar : 

"  The  chair  is  determined  that  there  shall 
be  order.  At  the  slightest  indication  of  dis- 
order during  the  session  all  business  will  be 
suspended  while  the  sergeant-at-arms  and  the 
police  of  St.  Louis  put  the  offender  out  of  the 
building." 

The  tone  and  manner  of  this  menace  car- 
ried conviction  and  for  the  first  time  in  that 
wild,  turbulent  convention  there  was  order. 
Speaker  after  speaker  was  introduced  to  while 
away  the  time,  while  Clark,  in  the  same  fash- 
ion, put  an  end  to  the  jamming  of  the  aisles. 
The  crowd  yelled  for  ''  Joe  Bailey  ''  to  make  a 
speech,  until  Clark  got  tired  of  it.  When  he 
did,  he  put  the  Bailey  yell  to  rest  with  exactly 
three  bangs  of  the  gavel,  two  compressions  of 
the  lips,  one  projection  of  the  chin,  and  one 
glare. 

Then  at  last  came  Ollie  James's  report.  At 
first  came  the  announcement  that  the  report 
was  unanimous.  Bang,  crash,  boom,  went 
the  convention.  As  soon  as  the  tumult  had 
been  ended  James  shouted  out  that  ''  New 
York    and    Nebraska,"    meaning    Hill    and 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  373 

Bryan,  had  agreed,  and  all  the  convention 
knew  that  there  was  no  gold  plank  in  the 
platform  and  that  the  single-handed  fighter 
had  won.  Pandemonium  was  unchained. 
Champ  Clark  leaped  up  like  a  tiger,  seized 
his  gavel  and  raised  it  above  his  head  so  far 
that  it  seemed  to  threaten  the  small  of  his 
back.  Down  it  came  with  crash  after  crash. 
He  was  the  model  of  a  man  who  meant  busi- 
ness, the  incarnation  of  the  words  '^  stop  it.'' 

If  this  had  been  Clark's  first  appearance  in 
the  role  of  a  trouble-queller,  he  might  not 
have  succeeded.  But  the  galleries,  Bryan's 
only  friends,  had  learned  to  fear  him,  and  he 
scared  the  demonstration  out  of  them.  Ad- 
journment followed  immediately,  and  the 
delegates  excitedly  poured  out  into  the  streets, 
discussing  the  wonderful  victory  of  the  single- 
handed  fighter. 

Bryan  was  elsewhere,  engaged  in  half  a 
dozen  new  fights.  At  night  came  the  nomi- 
nations, in  that  record-breaking  session  which 
lasted  until  long  after  the  convention  had 
been  illuminated  by  the  light  of  day.  It  was 
five  minutes  to  six  when  the  delegates  went 
out  into  the  busy  streets.  And  here  was 
where  Bryan  made  what,  to  one  who  has  seen 
him  under  many  aspects,  was  the  most  re- 
markable appearance  of  his  life. 


374  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

The  scene  must  be  understood  to  form  an 
idea  of  the  event.  It  was  a  session  of  thrills, 
turbulence  and  wild  excitement.  The  day- 
light, looking  into  the  blazing  hot  hall  which 
had  been  a  furnace  of  emotion  for  hours, 
lighted  a  seething  multitude  howling  like 
maniacs  at  every  sentiment  and  every  name, 
roaring  down  even  good  speakers  and  blowing 
tedious  ones  off  the  platform  in  gales  of  rage. 
It  lighted  a  hall  comprising  an  entire  city 
block,  in  which  were  certainly  fifteen  thou- 
sand people.  It  lighted  galleries  thronged 
with  persons  who,  though  they  were  merely 
onlookers  and  did  not  have  to  stay,  had  clung 
to  their  seats  all  night,  and  would  see  it 
through.  Among  them  were  thousands  of 
daintily  dressed  women,  who  had  come  to  see 
a  show  whether  they  missed  a  night's  sleep  or 
not.  Their  little  handkerchiefs  were  wet, 
their  palm  leaf  fans  were  broken  into  splinters 
from  too  much  participation  in  wild  demon- 
strations, and  they  were  eating  thick  ham 
sandwiches  brought  in  from  neighboring 
places  with  as  much  gusto  as  they  ever  ate  the 
most  tempting  of  breakfasts  at  home. 

As  for  the  men,  a  coat  was  almost  as  rare  as 
a  petticoat  with  them.  Their  hair  was  di- 
sheveled, their  voices  hoarse  and  broken,  their 
tempers  ruffled.     They  were  drinking  ginger 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  375 

ale  out  of  bottles  because  there  were  no  glasses 
to  be  had.  All  over  the  hall  was  a  perpetual 
roar  of  sound,  lifted  into  violent  gusts  when- 
ever occasion  arose.  Everywhere  exhausted 
delegates  who  had  been  up  for  two  nights  and 
had  given  way  to  the  strain  were  fast  asleep 
in  their  chairs. 

In  at  the  doors  were  crowding  hundreds  of 
men,  although  the  hall  had  been  taxed  to  its 
capacity  hours  before.  Discipline  and  organi- 
zation were  at  an  end,  tickets  were  no  longer 
good,  and  the  strongest  man  had  the  best 
chance.  It  was  five  o'clock  when  Senator 
Martin  of  Virginia,  rushing  like  a  madman 
down  the  aisle,  his  face  distorted  with  rage, 
shouted  to  Senator  Bailey,  the  chairman  : 

''  Bailey,  stop  the  proceedings  and  put  a 
stop  to  this  infernal  outrage.  The  doorkeep- 
ers are  letting  everybody  in.  They  are  jam- 
ming the  aisles  so  that  we  cannot  move 
around.     Stop  it,  I  say." 

It  was  little  chance  a  speaker  had  in  that 
maelstrom.  The  saddest  fate  was  that  of  poor 
little  Fitzgerald  of  Rhode  Island,  who  tried  to 
second  Hearst  in  a  voice  that  did  not  reach 
the  middle  of  the  hall.  He  knew  the  temper 
of  the  crowd,  and  he  wore  a  fixed  smile  of 
good  nature  to  disarm  its  wrath  as  he  took 
the  platform,  but  the  smile  only  maddened 


376  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

them.  He  had  not  uttered  a  single  sentence 
before  thousands  were  shouting,  ''  Sit  down  !  " 
Fitzgerald  talked  bravely  along  unheard.  In 
the  midst  of  the  shrieks,  with  his  original 
idea  of  disarming  wrath  by  good  nature,  he 
called  out : 

*'  Give  me  half  a  minute,  men  ;  I  won^t  keep 
you.     I  just  want  to  say  a  word." 

This  touching  plea  might  have  had  its  effect 
had  any  one  heard  it,  but  the  galleries  were 
singing  ''  Dixie,"  and  he  sat  down. 

When  Mayor  Rose  of  Milwaukee  took  the 
stand  early  in  the  morning,  his  clear  voice  ar- 
rested the  crowd  for  a  moment,  but  he  frit- 
tered away  his  opportunity  by  making  attacks 
upon  candidates  other  than  his  own,  and  a 
storm  broke  forth.  He  made  it  worse  by  talk- 
ing back,  and  his  speech  was  wrecked. 

When  South  Carolina  was  called  and  the 
great  rough  head  and  fierce  face  of  old  Ben 
Tillman  upreared  themselves  above  the  crowd, 
its  temper  changed  on  the  instant  and  fifteen 
thousand  voices  yelled  ''  Platform."  The 
fierce  face  disappeared  in  the  waves  of  human- 
ity beneath,  and  a  few  seconds  later  the  burly 
figure  was  seen  climbing  the  platform. 

It  was  a  remarkable  speech  that  Tillman  de- 
livered. It  was  unusual  for  him  ;  it  was  an 
appeal  and  a  reproach.     Rose's  attacks  upon 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  3Y7 

other  candidates  had  grieved  him.  This  was 
a  time  for  Democrats  to  get  together.  He 
pleaded  earnestly  with  them  to  forget  their 
differences,  to  stop  squabbling  among  them- 
selves, and  end  the  old  unhappy  days  of  the 
past  ten  years.  There  was  a  yearning  note  in 
it,  and  it  melted  the  crowd  as  no  other  speech 
had  done. 

Then  came  Champ  Clark  and  the  Cockrell 
demonstration,  and  had  the  convention  been 
any  less  steel-riveted,  copper-bound,  signed, 
sealed  and  delivered  than  it  was,  it  would 
have  been  swept  off  its  feet.  It  was  the  great- 
est demonstration  of  the  convention.  So  great 
was  it  that  Champ  Clark  did  not  finish  his 
speech.  He  had  only  begun  to  mention  the 
qualifications  of  his  candidate.  He  had  been 
laying  down  general  propositions  by  way  of 
introducing  his  candidate.  Then,  letting  out 
that  gigantic  voice  of  his  in  a  roar  that  rang 
and  echoed  and  vibrated  in  every  corner  of 
that  city  block,  he  cried  : 

''They  talk  of  Roosevelt's  bravery.  Old 
Cockrell  is  braver  than  he." 

At  these  words  the  crowd  went  mad,  the 
delegates  and  all.  It  was  really  only  the  be- 
ginning of  Clark's  speech  ;  but  he  waited  for 
fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  for  it  to  die  down, 
and  then,  realizing  that  it  was  only  half  over, 


378  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

and  that  he  had  done  his  work,  he  left  the 
platform.  For  twenty  minutes  after  that  the 
crowd  went  on.  The  Cockrell  boomers  who 
distributed  the  flags  probably  hoped  that  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  flags  would  be  waved, 
but  they  could  not  have  expected  that  practic- 
ally everybody  there  would  seize  a  flag  and 
wave  it.  The  vast  arena,  the  city  block,  was 
a  vibrating,  undulating,  changing  sea  of  red, 
white  and  blue,  and  for  once  the  old  toast 
which  tells  how  ''  God  never  made  a  more 
beautiful  thing  than  the  American  flag  "  was 
literally  true. 

It  was  Bryan's  opportunity,  and  the  idea  of 
seconding  Cockrell  came  to  him  in  a  flash. 

At  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  he  mounted 
the  platform.  The  crowd  cheered  for  nine 
minutes,  and  it  was  Bryan  himself  who  stopped 
it.  He  scowled  at  the  shouters,  and  imperi- 
ously motioned  them  to  stop  shouting  and  sit 
down.  After  a  minute  or  two  they  realized 
that  he  meant  it,  and  they  did  so. 

It  was  the  most  remarkable  speech  Bryan 
ever  delivered — not  in  rhetoric,  but  in  the 
nature  of  its  plea.  It  was  as  near  to  a  har- 
mony talk  as  a  man  of  his  pugnacity  could 
make.  Also,  it  was  as  near  to  a  plea  for  the 
sympathies  of  his  hearers  as  such  a  fighter 
could  make.     It  was  dignified  and  manly  in 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  3Y9 

tone,  but  the  undercurrent  was  this,  and 
everybody  realized  it  as  well  as  if  it  had  been 
put  in  words  instead  of  being  deftly  and  subtly 
suggested  by  innuendo  and  inference : 

''  I  led  you  twice,  and  you  have  followed  me 
and  believed  in  me.  Now  you  have  overruled 
me  and  cast  me  out.  I  accept  it  because  I  am 
a  loyal  Democrat.  But  be  merciful  to  your 
former  leader  and  be  not  too  brutal  to  your 
old  principles.  You  have  got  plenty  of  good 
men  ;  take  one — any  one — whether  he  is  a  free 
silver  man  or  not,  but  don't  force  me  to  take 
this  candidate  of  yours,  for  he  represents 
the  money  interests,  the  powers  of  greed  that 
I  have  been  fighting  all  these  years." 

Over  and  over  again  this  was  suggested  in 
sentences  that  came  as  near  to  the  blunt  and 
plain  ones  above  as  Bryan  could  in  propriety 
make  them.  It  was  such  a  speech  as  he  made 
at  Chicago  in  1896,  but  with  the  tawdriness 
gone  and  in  its  place  a  development  of  the 
larger  dignity  that  has  come  to  Bryan  with 
years  and  experience.  And  this  most  certainly 
was  a  speech  which  would  have  swept  a  con- 
vention less  steel  riveted. 

Of  course  it  had  no  effect  as  far  as  votes 
were  concerned,  but  it  did  have  a  good  effect 
for  Bryan's  cause,  for  it  led  to  a  great  feeling 
of  sympathy  and  even  admiration  for  a  good 


380  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

fighter  who  was  battling  heroically  against  un- 
conquerable odds. 

Wherever  one  looked  men  who  had  had  no 
use  for  Bryan  and  were  not  supporting  him, 
and  were  glad  of  his  defeat,  were  looking  at 
each  other  and  nodding  their  heads,  and  say- 
ing softly,  ^*  This  is  a  great  speech,  the  greatest 
he  ever  made/^ 

He  was  hoarse  when  he  took  the  stand,  and 
he  apologized  for  it.  ''  It's  too  bad  that  in 
this  hour  of  extremity  his  voice  should  fail 
him,"  whispered  many  a  man  who,  though 
against  him,  admired  the  fight  he  was  making. 

But  in  a  few  moments  the  old  inspiration 
came  to  him ;  his  eyes  lighted  up  and  his 
voice  rang  out  firm,  loud,  and  clear.  To  see 
Bryan  pleading,  pleading  pathetically  and 
desperately  with  the  party  whose  idol  he  had 
been  in  two  campaigns,  pleading  not  for  the 
nomination  of  a  man  of  his  own  faith,  but  for 
the  nomination  of  anybody  at  all  who  was 
not  connected  with  what  he  called  ''  the  god 
of  gold,"  was  as  dramatic  and  strange  a  sight 
as  has  ever  been  seen  in  a  great  gathering. 
Certainly  it  was  without  precedent  in  a  na- 
tional convention. 

At  last  came  the  climax.  When,  after  say- 
ing that  even  Pattison  of  Pennsylvania  would 
be  satisfactory  to  him,  he  suddenly  announced 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  381 

that  he  had  come  to  second  the  nomination 
of  Cockrell,  the  crowd  went  wild.  But  it  was 
all  in  vain.  There  are  some  things  that  even 
Hereward  the  Strong  and  Bussy  d'Amboise 
could  not  do,  and  there  are  some  things  that 
Bryan  could  not  do.  It  shows  the  extent  to 
which  Hill  and  his  friends  had  the  conven- 
tion nailed  down  and  sealed  up  that  not  even 
such  a  combination  as  the  speeches  of  Bryan 
and  Clark  and  the  Cockrell  demonstration 
could  sweep  it  off  its  feet. 

Parker  was  nominated,  nominated  not  by 
the  despised  ''  goldbugs ''  of  1896  and  1900, 
but  by  the  ex-Bryanites  who  wanted  to  win. 
Bryan  almost  fell  into  his  seat  after  his  speech  ; 
he  had  not  even  the  strength  to  stay  there  as 
chairman  of  the  Nebraska  delegation  and  an- 
nounce its  vote.  He  was  half-led,  half-carried 
to  a  cab  and  taken  to  his  hotel,  where  he  fell 
immediately  into  a  deep  sleep. 

When  he  awoke  his  friends  were  worried 
about  him.  A  doctor  was  summoned,  who 
pronounced  him  a  sick  man  and  ordered  him 
off  for  a  month's  rest  and  treatment,  saying 
that  otherwise  his  life  was  in  possible  danger. 
The  defeated  fighter  prepared  to  carry  out  the 
order. 

That  afternoon  came  the  rumor  of  the 
"  Gold  Telegram  "  from  Parker.     The  conven- 


382  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

tion,  which  had  met  to  nominate  a  candidate 
for  vice-president,  adjourned  in  a  hurry, 
breathing  furious  denunciations  of  its  presi- 
dential candidate.  For  two  hours  the  streets 
and  hotel  lobbies  were  seething  masses  of  in- 
furiated men.  In  the  lobby  of  the  Planters' 
was  Ollie  James,  forgetful  of  his  desire  for 
party  harmony,  delivering  a  tempestuous 
speech  in  favor  of  taking  Parker  off  the  ticket 
and  nominating  the  hottest  free  silver  man 
who  could  be  found.  Tillman,  who  had  been 
dragged  with  difficulty  into  the  harmony 
movement,  was  denouncing  Hill  for  having 
led  the  party  into  such  a  ridiculous  position. 

It  looked  as  if  Parker  was  gone  from  the 
ticket.  The  convention  met  at  8:30  o'clock, 
in  a  vastly  different  mood  from  the  listless, 
tolerant,  light-hearted  frame  of  mind  in  which 
it  had  assembled  in  the  afternoon.  The  fierce- 
ness and  determination  that  had  characterized 
the  previous  night  had  returned,  as  had  also 
the  thirst  for  battle.  Again  were  the  galleries 
thronged  and  ready  to  hoot  and  yell  at  the 
first  sign  of  excitement. 

John  Sharp  Williams  and  a  few  other  re- 
organization leaders  deserve  whatever  credit 
may  attach  to  the  keeping  of  Parker  on  the 
ticket.  They  managed  the  thing  with  so 
much  address  and  tact  that  they  managed  to 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  383 

allay  the  fury  of  the  throng.  While  they 
were  doing  this,  and  making  a  fair  success  of 
it,  there  was  an  uproar. 

Down  the  aisle  came  Bryan,  white-faced 
and  ghastly,  breathing  with  difficulty,  his 
brows  covered  with  sweat.  On  his  sick-bed 
he  had  heard  the  news,  had  seen  his  last 
chance  to  turn  defeat  into  victory,  had  diso- 
beyed his  physician,  had  thrown  up  his  plans 
for  a  journey  away  for  rest,  and  had  come 
with  difficulty  into  the  hall  to  make  his  last 
fight. 

He  took  his  stand  upon  the  platform,  and 
there,  still  single-handed,  fought  all  night 
long  his  desperate  battle.  Defeated  at  one 
point,  he  turned  to  another.  Again  and  again 
he  all  but  won.  Those  standing  near  him 
could  see  with  what  an  effi)rt  he  spoke,  how 
the  perspiration  started  from  his  brow  at  every 
movement ;  yet  he  was  as  thoroughly  master 
of  himself  as  at  any  time  in  his  life.  He  so 
frightened  the  reorganizers  that  they  resorted 
to  insult  to  the  presidential  candidate  of  their 
party  for  two  terms.  John  Sharp  Williams 
once  refused  to  allow  him  to  speak  ;  Senator 
Carmack,  long  an  ardent  free  silver  man,  be- 
ing howled  at  by  the  galleries  and  unselfishly 
interceded  for  by  Bryan,  directed  Bryan  to 
mind  his  own  business.     These  things  should 


384  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

not  be  remembered  against  these  gentlemen, 
with  tempers  as  cracked  and  broken  as  their 
voices  from  long  stress,  and  seeing  the  prize 
of  victory  about  to  be  snatched  from  them. 
It  was  a  situation  in  which  no  man  could  be 
blamed  for  losing  himself.  They  are  men- 
tioned only  to  point  the  fact  that  Bryan  never 
lost  his  ready  courtesy,  his  good  humor,  his 
thorough  self-control. 

And  after  it  was  all  over  and  Bryan  had 
lost,  he  went  to  his  hotel  and  fell  again  into 
that  bed  of  which  he  had  seen  so  little  for  a 
week.  For  a  man  of  such  superb  physique  it 
does  not  take  long  to  recover  from  things 
which  would  kill  another ;  and  after  a  month 
of  recuperation  and  medical  treatment,  Bryan 
was  on  the  stump  again,  fighting  valiantly 
for  the  Democratic  ticket,  and  laying  his 
plans  for  renewing  the  battle  for  his  principles 
the  moment  the  election  was  over. 

This  battle  of  his  is  described  so  fully  here 
because  it  was  in  most  features  absolutely 
unique  in  the  history  of  the  country,  because 
it  has  been  less  dwelt  upon  than  some  of  his 
lesser  battles,  and  because  it  illustrates  better 
than  most  the  indomitable  character  of  the 
man.  His  purity  of  character,  his  oratory, 
and  other  things  about  him,  have  been  written 
about  over  and  over  again  ;  the  aim  here  has 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  385 

been  to  show  something  of  Bryan  the  warrior 
to  a  country  that  loves  a  good  fighter  and  a 
square  man. 


n 


WEAVER   AND  DURHAM :  A  RING-SMASHER 
AND  A  BOSS 

In  the  dramatic  revolt  against  bossism  which 
was  the  characteristic  of  the  year  1905  all 
over  the  nation,  the  chief  interest  centred  in 
the  long,  hot  struggle  in  Philadelphia.  The 
revolts  in  New  York,  Ohio,  Maryland  and 
elsewhere  were  interesting  enough ;  but  in 
Philadelphia  the  political  campaign  was 
merely  one  incident  of  a  long-drawn-out 
fight,  full  of  spectacular  features.  From  the 
day  on  which  Mayor  Weaver  turned  on  the 
Durham  machine  and  began  his  fight  against 
the  gas  lease  to  the  day  on  which  the  citizens 
of  Philadelphia  crushed  the  gang  under  their 
feet  at  the  polls  the  eyes  of  the  whole  nation 
were  on  the  Quaker  city. 

No  two  men  could  be  more  unlike  than  the 
two  opposing  leaders  who  fought  to  a  finish 
the  most  remarkable  municipal  battle  in  the 
history  of  American  politics. 

Durham,  the  defeated  leader,  is  one  of  the 
shrewdest  politicians  in  the  country,  even 
though  his  domain  is  restricted  to  local  poli- 
tics.    Weaver,  the  victorious  leader,  is  no  pol- 

386 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  387 

itician  at  all,  and  for  him  Durham  and  all  the 
ring  had  a  contempt  so  profound  and  bottom- 
less that  it  could  not  find  its  expression  in 
words. 

Durham  is  a  quiet,  self-contained  man. 
Weaver  is  a  bubbling,  effervescent  sort  of  per- 
son. Durham  is  a  man  who  makes  no  pre- 
tenses at  religion  ;  Weaver  is  a  great  Sunday- 
school  man,  and  thereby  hangs  much  of  the 
tale  of  his  revolt.  For  Weaver's  break  with 
the  ring  did  not  come  until  the  clergymen  and 
Sunday-school  leaders  of  the  city  had  de- 
nounced him  bitterly  as  recreant.  He  had 
stood  by  the  ring  until  that  happened.  When 
it  did  it  nearly  broke  his  heart. 

Weaver  has  been  in  the  limelight  for  so 
short  a  time,  so  far  as  the  country  at  large  is 
concerned,  that  his  character  and  his  true  re- 
lations with  the  ring  are  not  generally  under- 
stood. When  the  limelight  came  his  way  he 
was  in  the  act  of  smashing  the  ring,  and  it  is 
as  a  ring-smasher  that  the  country  knows  him. 
•As  a  fact,  he  was  for  two  years,  a  full  half  of 
his  term,  a  ring  mayor. 

But  this  is  not  to  say  that  Weaver  was  ever 
a  ring  man  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term.  He 
writhed  in  his  fetters.  He  carried  out  the 
ring's  bidding  with  bitter  protest,  because  he 
had   to.     When   he   received  his  orders  and 


388  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

obeyed  them  it  was  with  such  open  disgust 
and  anger  that  the  ring  that  had  elected  him 
hated  him.  For  a  year  prior  to  the  time  of 
his  revolt  no  ring  man  had  ever  referred  to 
him  by  name.  There  is  an  unprintable 
epithet  that  had  been  set  apart  by  the  ring  for 
Weaver,  and  when  a  ring  man  spoke  of  him 
it  was  always  by  this  epithet. 

The  fact  that  he  loathed  the  ring,  and  yet 
carried  out  its  orders,  led  it  to  make  the  huge 
mistake  of  thinking  that  he  was  a  contemp- 
tible puppet,  from  whom  there  was  nothing 
to  fear.  When  the  city  officials  went  out  to 
the  opening  of  the  St.  Louis  World's  Fair  in  a 
special  train,  no  ring  man  would  set  foot  in 
Weaver's  car.  In  the  buffet  car  was  a  pic- 
ture of  the  mayor,  and  no  ring  man  was  al- 
lowed to  take  a  drink  of  liquor  until  he  had 
spat  on  this  picture. 

All  this  time  the  ring  was  resting  in  pro- 
found security.  It  looked  for  no  revolt  from 
Weaver.  But  the  mayor  was  obeying  orders 
merely  because  he  could  not  find  a  chance  to 
make  a  revolt  with  any  hope  of  success.  Prob- 
ably he  would  have  revolted  long  ago  if  there 
had  been  any  chance  of  victory. 

In  choosing  the  time  for  his  revolt  he  acted 
with  a  shrewdness  that  astounded  the  ring. 
He  waited  till  the  Legislature  had  adjourned. 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  380 

If  he  had  revolted  before,  a  ripper  bill  would 
have  been  put  through  the  Legislature  in 
twenty-four  hours,  and  Weaver  would  have 
been  '^  ripped "  out  of  office.  Therefore 
Weaver  bided  his  time. 

When  he  acted,  even  though  he  is  no  poli- 
tician, his  plan  of  campaign  was  something 
that  could  not  be  surpassed,  and  he  acted  with 
a  decision  that  put  the  ring  on  the  run  from 
the  start. 

The  first  fight  was  over  the  gas  lease.  First 
the  mayor  announced  that  he  would  veto  the 
lease,  and  then  he  removed  from  office  the 
Director  of  Public  Safety  and  the  Director  of 
Public  Works.  The  former  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  with  the  gas  works  officially,  and 
the  latter  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  lease. 
The  blow  was  struck  for  the  purpose  of  para- 
lyzing the  ring. 

Every  act  of  the  mayor's  since  he  entered 
on  the  fight  has  been  performed  with  an 
energy  and  promptness  that  have  left  the  be- 
wildered ring  wondering  if  some  doppelganger 
or  changeling  has  not  got  into  the  shoes  of  the 
protesting  but  pliant  Weaver  they  used  to 
know  and  despise.  Weaver  does  not  resemble 
in  any  detail  whatever  the  man  the  ring 
thought  it  knew  so  well. 

The  man  who  has  done  this  thing  is  a  short, 


390  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

ruddy  Englishman,  with  a  chunky  face.  He 
has  one  of  the  biggest  chins  that  ever  com- 
pleted a  human  visage.  He  is  so  short  that  he 
is  called  ''  The  little  Mayor,"  but  his  figure  is 
so  square  and  chubby  that  he  does  not  really 
look  little,  even  to  the  medium-sized  men  who 
tower  over  him  and  to  whom  he  has  to  raise 
his  eyes  when  he  talks.  Down  his  jaw  there 
runs  a  long  and  very  deep  gash,  made  in  his 
youth  by  a  man  who  was  aiming  a  blow  at 
some  one  else  and  caught  the  innocent  by- 
stander. 

English-born,  Weaver  started  at  the  bottom 
when  he  came  to  America  as  a  boy.  He  was 
an  errand-boy,  but  he  saved  up  enough  to  go 
to  a  business  college  and  thus  became  a  clerk. 
Then,  as  a  clerk,  he  saved  up  enough  to  go  to 
a  law  school  and  become  a  lawyer. 

But  he  was  an  unknown  lawyer,  a  respect- 
able but  anonymous  nobody,  when  the  ring 
took  him  up.  Once  he  had  joined  an  inde- 
pendent movement  to  beat  a  ring  councilman 
for  reelection,  which  had  failed,  but  this 
aberration  had  been  atoned  for  by  a  monot- 
onous regularity  thereafter. 

The  situation  was  serious  for  the  ring  in 
1901.  Rothermel,  the  able  and  uncompro- 
mising district  attorney,  had  prosecuted  the 
ring's   criminals  in   a   way   that   gave   great 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  391 

scandal  to  the  organization  and  deep  thankful- 
ness to  honest  Philadelphians.  He  had  even 
prosecuted  Quay,  and  had  astounded  the  ring 
by  making  a  persevering  effort  to  adorn  that 
statesman  with  a  suit  of  stripes.  Salter,  the 
fugitive  ballot-box  stufFer,  was  in  Mexico  with 
his  ear  to  the  ground,  waiting  to  be  told  when 
he  could  come  back  and  be  tried.  It  was 
painfully  evident  that  Salter  must  remain  an 
exile  until  Rothermel  had  been  got  out  of  office. 

Rothermel  was  renominated  by  a  town 
meeting.  The  ring  did  not  dare  nominate  one 
of  its  heelers,  and  yet  must  have  a  man  who 
would  do  its  bidding.  Francis  Shunk  Brown 
recommended  Weaver.  Nobody  knew  who 
he  was,  and  there  was  no  danger  of  any  one 
saying  anything  against  him.  Durham  had 
never  seen  him,  never  heard  of  him.  ''  Who 
is  Weaver  ?  "  he  asked  Brown,  and  then  nomi- 
nated him. 

''Who  is  Weaver?"  became  the  rallying 
cry  of  the  independents.  There  is  no  doubt 
whatever  that  Rothermel  was  elected  that  year 
and  counted  out.  The  number  of  fictitious 
ballots  cast  by  the  ring  at  every  election, 
which  had  to  be  overcome  before  the  reform 
majority  can  begin  to  be  counted,  is  variously 
estimated  at  from  50,000  to  70,000.  Weaver's 
alleged  majority  was  44,000. 


392  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

Durham  did  not  make  many  demands  on 
Weaver,  and  the  few  he  did  make  were 
granted.  When  Weaver  was  nominated  for 
mayor  in  1903  the  ring  did  not  expect  any 
trouble  with  him.  But  the  demands  made  on 
the  mayor  were  different  from  those  made  on 
the  district  attorney.  The  man  with  the 
square  jaw  found  himself  a  puppet,  not  one 
act  of  whose  official  life  was  dictated  by  him- 
self. He  grew  restive  almost  immediately, 
and  as  time  went  on  his  chains  grew  unen- 
durable to  him.  There  was  an  audible  clank 
and  rattle  of  them  every  time  he  signed  his 
name  by  Durham's  orders  to  an  official  paper. 

Now  he  has  beaten  Durham  down  to  his 
knees.  He  has  done  it  not  alone  by  revolt- 
ing, but  by  revolting  at  precisely  the  right 
time  and  striking  just  the  blows  that  go  to  the 
solar  plexus.  The  ring  hates  him  as  bitterly 
as  ever,  but  it  does  not  despise  him  now. 

The  man  whose  power  has  been  so  shattered 
is  far  from  being  a  detestable  character  as 
bosses  go.  The  human  side  of  Durham,  be- 
neath his  brutality  as  a  boss,  makes  him  a 
more  engaging  figure  than  Croker  was,  for  in- 
stance. There  is  about  him  a  good  deal  of  the 
charm  which  bound  men  to  Tweed. 

He  was  practically  the  creator  of  the  organ- 
ization which  has   just   been   crushed,   and 


JOliiN   VVEAVEK.    ;"-     >     ,      <>  >  - 
"  A  short,  ruddy  Englishman  with  aelfiiinky  lace." 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  393 

which  was  quite  a  new  thing.  In  days  not 
long  gone  by  the  town  was  ruled  by  the  Hog 
Combine,  of  which  State  Senator  David  Martin 
was  the  head,  a  ring  which  was  infantile  com- 
pared with  Durham's.  The  Hog  Combine 
never  dreamed  of  the  far-reaching  grip  which 
Durham  fastened  on  every  department  of 
human  life  in  Philadelphia. 

Under  the  Hog  Combine  a  ward  leader  led 
his  ward.  Durham's  organization  nullified 
the  ward  leader  and  concentrated  all  power  in 
the  boss's  hands.  Under  the  Hog  Combine 
the  ward  leader  was  consulted  in  the  plans  of 
the  organization,  and  his  voice  was  potent. 
Under  Durham  nothing  of  the  kind  was 
known. 

In  the  days  of  the  Hog  Combine  council- 
men  were  allowed  to  speak  on  the  floor.  Un- 
der Durham,  if  a  councilman  wished  to  speak, 
he  must  first  go  to  Seger,  if  he  were  a  select 
councilman,  or  to  Hammond,  if  he  were  a 
common  councilman,  and  obtain  permission. 
Seger  and  Hammond  were  designated  by 
Durham  for  this  purpose,  and  were  styled 
"  the  whips  of  councils." 

Durham's  machine  subsisted  chiefly  on  the 
funds  raised  by  office-holders.  All  of  such 
holders  belonged  to  the  ring,  and  a  specified 
part  of  the  salary  of  each  was  set  apart  for  the 


394  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

organization.  Durham  decided  the  distribu- 
tion of  this  immense  fund.  No  one  would 
have  dared  to  question  his  distribution  or  even 
ask  what  had  been  done  with  the  money. 
Durham's  will  was  law. 

The  whole  government  of  Philadelphia, 
prior  to  Weaver's  revolt,  was  located  on  the 
eleventh  floor  of  the  Betz  Building,  where 
Durham  had  his  office.  He  went  there  every 
day  and  issued  orders  for  the  government  of 
the  city.  Contractors  went  there  to  ask  that 
city  contracts  be  given  them,  officials  to  have 
their  duty  in  the  day's  work  decided  for  them, 
politicians  to  ask  for  decisions  on  patronage. 
It  was  all  done  perfectly  openly  and  above- 
board. 

They  were  waiting  for  Durham  on  the 
street,  and  he  was  held  up  and  buttonholed 
before  he  could  enter  the  building.  He  would 
stand  there  with  immovable  patience,  decid- 
ing each  case  in  a  few  words,  until  he  had  dis- 
missed them  all,  and  then  go  up  to  his  office, 
where  he  would  find  another  crowd  awaiting 
him,  and  where  he  would  enter  upon  his 
duties  as  governor  of  the  city  and  plan  out 
the  day's  work. 

His  decision  in  each  case  was  irrevocable 
and  could  not  be  appealed.  Durham  never 
lied.     That    and    his    patience   were    strong 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  395 

factors  in  his  personal  popularity.  In  answer 
to  a  request  for  a  position  he  would  say,  in 
his  calm  and  passionless  manner,  ^'  No,  I 
can't  give  you  that,"  and  that  ended  it. 
There  was  no  protest,  for  Durham  never  de- 
cided from  whim  and  could  not  be  moved 
from  a  decision. 

After  an  energetic  search  for  a  single  in- 
stance in  which  the  boss  ever  told  an  un- 
truth, the  following  was  brought  to  light  as 
the  only  case  on  record.  A  reporter,  meeting 
Durham  in  a  railroad  ticket  office,  asked  him 
how  a  certain  appointment  had  been  decided. 

"  Blank  will  get  the  position,"  replied  Dur- 
ham, passing  on  to  his  train.  The  reporter 
dashed  off  to  telephone  the  news  to  his  office. 
While  he  was  in  the  act  Durham  appeared. 

"I  told  you  an  untruth,"  said  Durham. 
"Blank  will  not  get  the  job." 

He  had  missed  his  train  to  save  the  reporter 
from  suffering  the  consequences  of  the  false- 
hood he  had  told. 

Durham's  audiences  were  not  limited  to 
politicians,  contractors  and  officials.  In  all 
walks  of  life  men  went  to  the  omnipotent 
boss  to  get  him  to  dispense  blessings.  A  priest 
went  to  the  Betz  Building  one  day  and  said 
that  in  his  parish  was  a  woman  who  was  a 
morphine  victim.      She  had  three  children, 


396  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

and  the  church  was  caring  for  them,  but  the 
priest  wanted  Durham  to  send  the  mother  to 
a  hospital  which  had  made  a  reputation  for 
curing  such  cases. 

"  Why  don't  you  see  the  hospital  authori- 
ties ?  "  said  Durham. 

"  The  woman  hasn't  the  money,"  replied 
the  priest,  ''  and  the  hospital  authorities 
wouldn't  take  her  without  it." 

"  Oh,  that's  different,"  said  the  boss.  "  111 
see  that  they  take  her,"  and  he  did. 

Some  time  ago  a  case  which  attracted  a  good 
deal  of  attention  was  that  of  a  very  young 
girl  who  was  left  an  orphan  with  five  still 
smaller  brothers  and  sisters,  whom  she  was 
trying  desperately  to  support.  Durham,  who 
was  at  Lake  Placid,  heard  about  it  and  tele- 
graphed to  Captain  Erb,  his  secretary  : 

"  Give  that  girl  $200  for  me  and  make 
everybody  who  comes  in  my  office  to-day  give 
up,  too." 

That  day  was  a  sad  one  for  Durham's  call- 
ers.    Erb  obeyed  orders  with  literal  exactness. 

A  church  member  learned  that  a  saloon  was 
to  be  established  next  door  to  his  house.  He 
could  not  afford  to  move,  and  was  in  despair. 
One  of  his  neighbors  was  a  ring  official,  to 
whom  he  told  his  predicament. 

^'  I'll  see  Durham  about  it,"  said  the  official. 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  397 

^'  He  wouldn't  help  me,"  replied  the  man 
with  the  endangered  home.  "  I  always  voted 
against  you  people." 

The  official  came  back  two  days  later  and 
said,  '^  Durham  has  ordered  those  people  to 
move  two  blocks  up  the  street,  where  the  peo- 
ple really  need  a  saloon." 

So,  during  the  anthracite  coal  strike  Dur- 
ham's chief  lieutenant,  McNichol,  got  a  small 
quantity  of  coal  and  ordered  his  henchmen  to 
deliver  it  to  poor  and  worthy  persons  in  the 
ward.  When  they  came  in  to  report  McNichol 
asked  if  a  certain  widow  had  received  any  of 
the  coal. 

"  No,  and  she  won't,"  replied  one  of  the 
heelers.  "  She  has  two  sons  who  are  against 
the  organization." 

''  Are  you  going  to  put  me  to  the  trouble  of 
taking  that  coal  over  there  myself?  "  asked 
McNichol.     The  coal  was  delivered. 

The  complete  downfall  of  Durham  and  the 
shattering  of  his  great  organization  have  fol- 
lowed upon  Weaver's  remarkable  revolt.  By 
taking  the  directorship  of  Public  Safety  away 
from  the  ring  Weaver  detached  the  police  force 
from  the  organization,  and  without  the  police 
a  fraudulent  election  could  not  be  held.  At 
the  election  of  1905  the  gang  was  broken  to 
pieces.     Now  it  has  taken  its  place  in  history 


398  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

as  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  governments 
that  ever  ruled  an  American  city.  There  is 
and  has  been  no  machine  anywhere  quite  like 
it. 


Ill 


GOVEENOE  HIGGINS— NEW  YOEK'S  NEW 
LEADEE? 

Not  often  in  New  York  politics,  where 
bosses  reign  tranquilly  from  year  to  year,  has 
there  been  seen  such  a  transformation  scene  of 
bossism  as  that  of  1904  to  1906.  Piatt,  the 
boss  of  nearly  twenty  years,  was  dethroned  at 
the  beginning  of  1904,  and  rooted  out  of  the 
situation  at  the  Saratoga  convention  of  that 
year.  There  succeeded  him  Odell,  who 
reigned  undisputed  until  after  the  election  of 
1905.  The  battle  after  that  between  Odell 
and  a  new  force  in  New  York  politics  was 
very  short  and  equally  decisive.  OdelTs  can- 
didate for  the  assembly  speakership  received 
only  fourteen  votes  in  the  Republican  caucus 
on  January  2,  1906. 

The  issue,  of  course,  is  not  yet  decided. 
Odell  serves  notice  that  it  is  like  a  card  game, 
where  the  defeated  player  takes  a  new  hand. 
But  the  handwriting  on  the  wall  shows  plainly 
that  the  new  boss  is  in  control.  Odell  must 
unseat  him  if  he  is  to  win. 

399 


400  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

Who  is  the  new  boss  ? 

To  the  eye  it  is  Frank  Wayland  Higgins, 
the  governor.  Higgins  himself  assumes  full 
responsibility.  In  Washington  they  gladly 
give  it  to  him.  The  spectre  of  ''  Federal  in- 
terference in  state  politics  "  has  had  potency, 
ever  since  Folger's  time,  to  frighten  presidents. 
But  there  is  not  a  man  of  sense  who  has  had 
anything  to  do  with  the  political  situation 
since  the  election  of  1905  who  doubts  in  the 
least  that  the  new  bosses — or,  in  the  case  of 
such  distinguished  men,  it  would  be  better  to 
say  the  new  leaders — are  Theodore  Roosevelt 
and  Elihu  Root. 

Higgins  is  not  a  strong  man.  He  had  no 
power  to  unhorse  Odell.  The  sudden  rush  to 
Higgins  would  have  been  impossible  if  he 
had  stood  alone.  All  the  politicians  in  Wash- 
ington, throughout  the  fight,  were  talking  of 
it  as  President  Roosevelt's.  From  the  begin- 
ning the  president  and  Mr.  Root  ruled  every 
development  of  it.  The  men  who  used  to 
go  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  for  instructions 
came  now  to  the  White  House.  Timothy  L. 
Woodruff,  boss  of  Brooklyn  ;  ex-state  chair- 
man George  W.  Dunn,  the  governor  himself, 
the  men  who  aspired  to  the  state  chairman- 
ship, William  Barnes,  J.  Sloat  Fassett,  and 
the  rest  came  to  Washington  as  once  they  sat 


FRANK   WAYLAND   HlGGimS/,    ; 
A  little  man,  plump  as  a  partf-irfge  *'" ' 


OUT  IK  THE  FIELD  401 

in  Piatt's  ''  Sunday-school  class,"  and  as  after- 
wards they  sat  in  Odell's  hotel  corner. 

In  the  more  important  consultations  Secre- 
tary Root  was  called  in.  When  Governor 
Higgins  came  to  Washington  that  was  done, 
and  Postmaster-General  Cortelyou,  also  a  New 
Yorker,  was  included  in  the  conference.  Mr. 
Higgins  went  away  the  president's  agent  in 
the  fight.  Every  action  of  his  from  that  time 
to  the  election  of  Speaker  Wadsworth  had  the 
president's  approval. 

The  president  is  the  undisputed  head  of  the 
Republican  party  in  New  York,  with  Odell 
fighting  to  drag  him  down.  The  Republican 
party  of  that  state  has  had  three  chieftains  in 
two  years. 

But  still,  Higgins  is  the  nominal  leader  and 
will  remain  so.  He  goes  through  the  motions 
of  leading.  Indeed,  he  does  lead  to  a  large 
extent,  having  been  placed  by  the  president 
in  a  position  where  he  is  able  to  do  so.  For 
some  years  to  come,  doubtless,  Higgins  will  be 
the  storm  centre  of  New  York  politics.  He 
can  never  be  regarded  as  a  boss ;  for  a  boss 
wrests  his  high  place  by  virtue  of  brute  force. 
Piatt  did  that,  Odell  did  it,  others  have  done 
it.  It  is  the  history  of  bossism.  When  Rich- 
ard Croker  gave  up  the  game,  he  designated 
Lewis  Nixon  to  be  his  successor,  apparently 


402  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

not  recognizing  that  no  man  can  be  a  boss  by 
designation.  He  must  take  it  with  his  bare 
hands. 

But  though  not  regarded  as  a  boss,  Higgins 
will  be  and  is  recognized  as  the  titular  leader 
of  the  Republican  party  in  New  York.  Even 
though  in  that  capacity  he  is  only  the  lieu- 
tenant  of  a  greater  man,  one  behind  the 
scenes,  Higgins  is  interesting  ;  for  the  captain 
of  the  Republican  army  in  the  greatest  state 
of  the  Union  cannot  be  anything  less. 

Higgins  was  picked  out  for  governor  after 
much  hesitation  by  Odell,  because  that  mis- 
guided boss  believed  he  would  be  docile.  In 
the  campaign  you  did  not  hear  much  of  Hig- 
gins. He  went  to  New  York  and  stayed  there 
for  several  days,  but  without  exciting  the 
customary  commotion  that  goes  with  the  visits 
of  candidates.  He  went  his  unobtrusive  way 
there,  unremarked  and  unregarded — curiously 
in  contrast  with  the  beehive  court  that  simul- 
taneously attended  the  progress  through  the 
city  of  Odell,  not  the  Republican  candidate 
for  governor.  It  was  a  queer  reversal  of  the 
theory  of  such  things  ;  Odell  might  have  been 
the  candidate  and  Higgins  the  retiring  gov- 
ernor, so  far  as  appearances  went. 

He  ran  behind  his  ticket,  but  he  was  elected, 
and  remained  in  close  harmony  with  Odell 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  403 

until  the  break  between  the  boss  and  the  pres- 
ident. Then  he  became  leader  himself.  As 
a  leader  he  is  entirely  different  from  both 
Odell  and  Piatt,  or  at  least  so  it  seems  from 
his  proceedings  at  the  beginning  of  his  leader- 
ship— all  we  have  to  judge  him  by  as  yet. 
His  dictation  to  the  assembly  as  to  who  should 
be  its  speaker  is  much  more  in  Odell's  vein 
than  Piatt's ;  for  Piatt  said  of  himself  truly 
that  he  was  an  ''  Easy  Boss,"  and  the  stufFed- 
club  method  was  not  in  his  line.  Yet  it  is 
impossible  to  conceive  of  Higgins  in  the  role 
played  by  Odell,  for  Odell  was  a  brutal  boss, 
the  slugger  in  politics,  and  Higgins  could  not 
be  that. 

He  is  an  agreeable  man  to  meet.  There  is 
an  unaffected  simplicity  about  him  that  puts 
visitors  instantly  at  ease  and  arm's-length  con- 
versation out  of  the  question  ;  and  yet  he  is 
amply  dignified  as  a  governor  should  be. 

He  is  a  little  man,  and  he  is  as  plump  as  a 
partridge,  but  without  the  Junoesque  propor- 
tions of  Sereno  Payne  or  the  globularity  of 
Lucius  Littauer.  He  could  not  be  called  roly- 
poly  ;  in  shape  he  somewhat  resembles  an  egg. 

He  has  the  Odell  complexion  and  looks  like 
a  mild  and  toned-down  version  of  his  former 
chief.  In  place  of  the  impression  which  Odell 
gives  of  forcefulness  and  reserved  strength  the 


404  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

governor  gives  an  impression  of  affability  and 
agreeableness.  Aside  from  the  complexion 
and  the  eyes  the  two  men  are  as  unlike  as  a 
grizzly  bear  and  a  kitten. 

It  would  be  difficult  for  any  one  to  meet 
Mr.  Higgins  casually  and  go  away  with  an  un- 
kindly thought  of  him.  He  is  simple  and 
direct  in  his  manner  and  there  is  not  a  shadow 
of  pretense  nor  a  suspicion  of  the ''  big  head  " 
about  him. 

Candidates  frequently  conceal  cranial  en- 
largement, but  it  is  a  rare  candidate  who  does 
not  give  the  impression  that  his  demeanor  as 
candidate  is  different  from  his  anti-convention 
demeanor.  The  geniality  of  candidates 
strikes  the  experienced  observer  as  a  husk,  and 
one  finds  himself  wondering  if  even  the  hand- 
shake is  an  exact  duplicate  of  the  unofficial 
or  domestic  handshake.  As  a  candidate  there 
was  no  forced  geniality  about  Higgins  ;  his  de- 
meanor was  neither  effusive  nor  haughty,  and 
his  handshake  was  of  the  common  or  garden 
kind.  Since  he  became  governor  he  has  been 
more  reserved,  but  still  without  exciting  any 
suspicion  of  the  ''  big  head." 

He  was  a  business  man,  a  typical  one  for 
the  region  he  hails  from.  His  grocery  store 
was  a  big  establishment  and  not  a  country 
store.     His  business  interests  were  large,  and 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  405 

he  impressed  it  upon  all  inquirers  that  he  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  grocery  business  ex- 
cept to  have  his  name  upon  the  door.  In  fact, 
Mr.  Higgins  was  touchy  upon  this  point.  The 
word  ^'  groceries  "  had  attained  such  a  peculiar 
significance  in  New  York  Republican  politics, 
and  various  evil-minded  humorists  had  mani- 
fested throughout  the  campaign  such  a  dispo- 
sition to  refer  to  the  grocery  firm  of  Odell  & 
Higgins,  that  the  junior  member  shrank  from 
the  word. 

Mr.  Higgins's  career  is  that  of  a  bright  busi- 
ness man,  a  safe  and  respectable  citizen,  a 
country  merchant  of  the  kind  that  is  looked 
up  to  in  the  community  and  spoken  of  in  the 
same  paragraph  with  the  leading  lawyer  and 
the  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  church.  There 
is  nothing  in  his  life  that  suggests  the  old  and 
orthodox  biography  of  a  candidate.  No  pine 
knots  guided  his  youthful  search  for  knowl- 
edge, no  axe  of  his  hewed  timber  for  the  fire 
to  cook  the  frugal  meal,  and  the  towpath  knew 
him  not.  He  has  done  his  duty  in  the  world 
and  earned  a  place  in  the  esteem  of  his  neigh- 
bors, and  that  is  his  record. 

But  there  is  nothing  slow  nor  stupid  about 
him.  As  a  boy  he  was  not  especially  studious 
and  won  no  especial  school  honors,  which  is  a 
mark  of  originality  in  a  public  man  which 


406  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

deserves  special  mention.  He  was  a  natural 
boy,  fonder  of  fun  than  fractions. 

It  was  in  a  district  school  that  he  demon- 
strated this  habit  of  mind,  to  the  regret  of 
teachers  and  the  profound  satisfaction  of 
students  of  campaign  biographies.  Like  Tom 
Sawyer,  his  youthful  mind  was  divided  be- 
tween the  advantages  of  being  a  soldier  and 
being  a  pirate.  At  fourteen  he  decided  to  be- 
come a  general,  because  the  uniform  appealed 
to  him  more  than  the  top  boots  and  the  cut- 
lass. 

He  informed  his  father  that  he  wanted  to 
wear  a  uniform,  and  to  that  end  desired  to  go 
to  a  military  school.  He  had  already  left  the 
district  school  for  Pike  Seminary.  The  pa- 
ternal Higgins  chuckled  and  said  : 

'^  Select  your  school  and  I'll  send  you 
there." 

The  embryo  warrior  picked  out  the  military 
academy  at  Poughkeepsie. 

"  If  you  go  there,"  said  the  paternal  Hig- 
gins, aware  of  the  evanescent  charms  of  mili- 
tary glamour, ''  you^ll  have  to  stay  there  till 
you  finish." 

The  warrior  promised,  and  he  stayed  there 
long  after  the  delights  of  a  uniform  had  faded 
away  and  he  had  been  thoroughly  cured  of  his 
desire  to  lead  embattled  hosts  on  gory  fields. 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  407 

Then  he  worked  in  his  father's  store  for  a 
while,  and  might  have  stayed  there  for  good 
but  for  the  advent  of  a  Chicago  girl  on  a 
visit. 

Higgins  was  only  a  boy — literally.  The 
girl  was  very  young  ;  but  when  she  went  back 
to  Chicago  Higgins  decided  that  he  wanted  to 
branch  out  in  life  and  carve  out  a  career  for 
himself.  Chicago  struck  him  as  just  the  place 
where  a  career  could  be  carved. 

It  speaks  well  for  the  youngster's  energy, 
address  and  power  to  convince  others  of  his 
business  ability  that,  although  he  was  only 
nineteen,  he  secured  the  Western  agency  of 
the  Binghamton  Refining  Company,  which 
was  one  of  three  concerns  that  were  un- 
dertaking to  make  lubricating  oil  out  of  pe- 
troleum. He  established  his  headquarters  in 
Chicago,  where  he  could  attend  both  to  lubri- 
cating oil  and  love-making ;  and  at  twenty- 
one  he  married  the  Chicago  girl. 

Higgins  stayed  out  West  for  a  few  years,  go- 
ing to  Denver  for  a  while  and  then  going  into 
business  for  himself  in  Stanton,  Michigan. 
Then  his  roving  days  were  over  for  life,  and 
at  twenty-three  he  went  back  to  Olean  and 
started  to  grow  into  the  solid  business  man  of 
that  section. 
•    The  long-sighted  paternal  Higgins,  who  had 


408  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

given  him  full  swing  in  his  military  am- 
bitions and  in  his  Western  career-carving,  saw 
that  the  young  man  was  now  ready  for  prac- 
tical business.  Young  as  Higgins  w^as,  he  was 
promptly  appointed  general  manager  of  the 
concern,  and  it  is  the  one  of  which  he  is  now 
the  head. 

All  this  time  he  was  dabbling  in  politics. 
His  first  political  work  was  done  when  he  was 
only  sixteen,  in  the  campaign  of  1872,  and 
here  he  declared  war  on  the  indulgent  paternal 
Higgins  and  struck  out  for  himself.  The  pa- 
ternal Higgins  was  a  war  Democrat  who  had 
been  voting  the  Republican  ticket.  "  But," 
says  the  filial  Higgins,  when  he  tells  the  story, 
''  he  hadn't  got  so  far  away  from  the  war  that 
he  wasn't  ready  to  go  back  to  the  party." 

So  when  Greeley  was  nominated  the  paternal 
Higgins  went  back  to  the  Democratic  party. 
The  filial  Higgins  bolted  the  paternal  ticket 
and  worked  with  all  the  ardor  of  his  sixteen 
years  for  Grant. 

He  took  to  politics  like  a  duck  to  water. 
"  Don't  know  how  I  happened  to  go  into  it," 
says  he;  "it  was. born  in  me,  I  guess."  But 
he  never  held  any  office,  not  even  a  local  one, 
until  he  was  elected  to  the  State  Senate, 
though  he  served  as  a  delegate  to  the  Repub- 
lican National  Convention  of  1888  and  helped, 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  409 

under  Piatt's  guidance,  to  nominate  Har- 
rison. 

On  July  4,  1893,  he  was  sitting  in  his  office 
when  three  Republican  politicians  came  in 
and  invited  him  to  be  a  candidate  for  the 
Senate.  Higgins  told  them  it  was  out  of  the 
question ;  he  couldn't  and  wouldn't  take  it. 
They  accepted  his  ultimatum  with  polite  re- 
gret and  withdrew. 

"  Then,"  says  Higgins,  in  telling  about  it, 
''  began  the  operation  of  a  system  which  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  then,  though  I 
have  since  come  to  understand  it  very  well." 

He  began  to  receive  letters  and  visits  from 
citizens  who  wanted  him  to  run  for  the  Sen- 
ate. Convinced  that  there  was  a  popular  de- 
mand for  his  nomination  he  entered  the  race, 
and  the  three  politely  regretful  Republican 
politicians  were  vindicated.  He  was  nomi- 
nated unanimously,  and  takes  pride  in  the  fact 
that  he  has  been  nominated  the  same  way  in 
every  convention  since,  where  he  has  been  a 
candidate  for  anything. 

His  acquaintance  with  Odell  and  Piatt  has 
been  a  political  one,  not  a  personal  one.  Out- 
side of  politics  he  could  not  be  called  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  either.  He  trained  with  Piatt 
as  long  as  the  senator  was  the  boss  of  the 
machine.     When  Piatt  began  to  totter,  Hig- 


410  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

gins  switched  over  to  Odell  just  at  the  right 
moment,  when  his  change  of  front  would  be 
of  use  to  the  incoming  boss. 

Then  he  supported  Odell  until  it  became 
evident  that  the  new  boss's  reign  was  in  dan- 
ger. Just  at  the  right  moment  Higgins  went 
to  Washington,  learned  the  president's  wishes, 
and  returned  to  Albany  an  anti-Odell  man. 
This  talent  for  changing  flags  at  exactly  the 
right  moment  has  been  of  use  to  Higgins  and 
may  carry  him  far. 

But  you  will  hurt  Higgins  if  you  intimate 
to  him  that  he  has  always  been  a  machine 
man.  There  is  nothing  about  which  he  is 
more  sensitive.  A  reference  to  his  machinism 
brings  out  instantly  the  fact  that  he  cut  loose 
from  the  organization  when  Louis  F.  Payn 
was  nominated  for  insurance  commissioner, 
and  voted  against  that  patriot's  confirmation. 
There  is  nothing  in  his  career  in  which  Hig- 
gins takes  more  pride,  except  his  support  of 
Governor  Roosevelt's  nomination  of  Francis 
Hendricks  for  Payn's  place. 

Take  him  by  and  large,  he  is  a  good  type 
of  the  up-State  New  York  business  man,  and 
a  gentleman  in  politics.  There  is  nothing 
great  about  him,  but  his  talent  for  sizing  up 
political  situations  is  greater  than  either  that 
of  Piatt  or  that  of  Odell,  and  if  he  can  keep 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  411 

on  turning  political  somersaults  at  the  right 
time  and  landing  on  his  feet  he  may  get  very 
much  further  than  abler  men  have  done. 


IV 

WOODEUFF,  BOSS  OF  BROOKLYN 

When  Governor  Odell  drove  Senator  Piatt 
from  the  New  York  leadership  he  forced  all 
of  Piatt's  old  lieutenants  to  surrender  or  fall, 
and  to  this  there  was  only  one  important  ex- 
ception. It  was  Timothy  L.  Woodruff,  the 
captain  of  the  Kings  County  Republicans,  and 
the  only  real  captain  they  have  ever  had. 

The  two  years  of  Odell's  reign,  seemingly 
terminated  now  or  at  least  abridged  by  the 
Roosevelt-Root-Higgins  alliance,  made  up  a 
reign  of  terror.  They  were  two  years  of  car- 
nage. For  the  old  regime  of  the  Easy  Boss 
was  substituted  a  despotism  whose  motto  was 
''  Surrender  or  die."  The  men  who  did  not 
surrender  were  driven  out  of  power  in  their 
respective  communities.  Higgins  was  one  of 
the  first  to  desert  Piatt.  Others  held  out 
longer,  but  surrendered  at  last. 

There  was  only  one  important  place  on  the 
political  map  which  stood  out  unconquered  to 
the  end,  and  that  was  the  great  county  of 
Kings.  When  the  Roosevelt-Root-Higgins  re- 
organization began,  they  did  not  have  to  make 

412 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  413 

any  fight  for  Brooklyn  ;  they  found  it  ready 
for  their  hands,  kept  for  them  during  those 
two  unpromising  years  by  the  cool,  resource- 
ful, indomitable  politician  at  its  head. 

When  the  governor  made  his  initial  vigor- 
ous onslaught  upon  Piatt's  strongholds,  many 
of  them  succumbed  at  the  first  fire.  Local 
bosses  who  held  out  were  bull-dozed  into 
camp,  for  Odell's  tactics  as  boss  were  those  of 
the  bludgeon  and  the  sledge-hammer. 

When  Woodruff  would  not  come  into  camp, 
the  governor  undertook  to  treat  him  the  same 
way.  It  was  confidently  announced  by  the 
governor's  friends  that  at  a  certain  forthcom- 
ing meeting  of  the  Kings  County  Executive 
Committee  the  Brooklyn  boss  would  be  over- 
thrown and  trodden  under  foot.  Woodruff 
smiled  and  said  nothing.  The  momentous 
night  arrived,  and  the  committee  endorsed 
Woodruff  by  a  unanimous  vote. 

The  governor  was  startled.  He  called  off 
his  war  on  Woodruff  and,  for  once,  tried  gen- 
tler methods.  They  failed,  and  it  seemed  for 
awhile  to  be  open  war.  Then  Odell  found  he 
could  gain  nothing  by  that,  and  raised  his 
only  flag  of  truce.  Armed  neutrality  con- 
tinued to  exist  until  the  break  came  in  1905. 
Michael  J.  Dady,  one  of  Woodruff's  lieuten- 
ants, thought  he  saw  his  chance  to  win  Wood- 


414  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

ruffs  baton.  He  went  over  to  Odell,  and  for 
these  two  years  has  been  endeavoring  to  un- 
dermine his  former  chief.  With  Odell  in  the 
saddle,  it  could  have  been  done  in  any  other 
county  than  Kings.  It  could  have  been  done 
there  easier  than  in  any  other  county  in  a 
similar  state  of  affairs  at  any  time  prior  to 
the  advent  of  Woodruff  as  the  Brooklyn  boss. 

Woodruff  is  one  of  the  ablest  politicians  in 
New  York  State.  He  is  a  man  not  of  bludg- 
eons and  sledge-hammers,  but  of  the  glad 
hand  and  the  whispered  confidence  ;  yet,  when 
occasion  arises,  and  battle  is  on,  he  is  a  foe  to 
be  dreaded  and  avoided.  Even  to  this  day 
there  are  unobservant  persons  in  different 
parts  of  the  country  to  whose  vision  Woodruff 
is  a  man  of  ''  pink  weskits  "  and  verdant  in- 
nocence. That  pleasant  dream  has  never  for 
a  moment  lasted  with  any  politician  who 
crossed  swords  with  the  Brooklyn  boss.  In 
all  his  career  he  has  never  known  defeat,  and 
yet  the  problems  before  him  have  often  seemed 
insurmountable. 

He  is  a  boss  of  the  quiet,  persistent,  indefat- 
igable kind.  Personall}^  he  is  so  affable, 
kindly  and  open  in  his  ways  that  strangers  are 
deceived  and  think  he  wears  his  heart  on  his 
sleeve.  It  is  a  mistake  ;  he  is  as  subterranean 
as  a  mole,  as  quick  as  lightning  and  as  sure- 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  415 

footed  amid  the  difficult  paths  of  politics  as  a 
mountain  goat. 

Prior  to  the  advent  of  Woodruff  Kings 
County  had  never  been  united  on  anything. 
It  was  a  by-word  in  the  politics  of  the  State. 
In  state  convention,  national  convention, 
state  committee  and  primary,  and  even  on 
election  day.  Kings  County  was  torn  in  fac- 
tions, and  this  was  the  case  year  in  and  year 
out,  as  far  as  the  memory  of  the  oldest  in- 
habitant runneth. 

Kings  had  a  machine,  like  other  counties  ; 
but  in  other  counties  the  machines  were  well- 
oiled  and  ran  the  politics  of  the  locality.  The 
Kings  machine  was  merely  a  momentarily 
predominant  faction :  it  might  be  called  a 
rump  machine.  Whichever  faction  might  be 
on  top  for  the  moment  nominated  its  men, 
generally  to  have  them  slashed  at  the  polls, 
and  then  was  knocked  out  by  the  other  faction. 
Never  was  there  a  time  when  the  machine  rep- 
resented the  whole  Republican  party. 

Bosses  went  and  came  with  lightning 
rapidity.  Ernst  Nathan,  '*  Jake "  Worth, 
'^Al"  Daggett,  Theodore  B.  Willis  and  the 
rest  of  the  kaleidoscopic  procession  of  bosses 
reigned  for  their  brief  hour  and  led  their  dis- 
cordant band  of  Kilkenny  cats  to  state  con- 
vention  after   state  convention.      No  matter 


4:16  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

what  the  issue  or  who  the  boss,  Kings  was 
sure  to  split  up  on  the  instant. 

In  1896  WoodruflP  became  park  commis- 
sioner of  Brooklyn,  under  Wurster,  the  town's 
last  mayor.  Wurster  represented  the  momen- 
tary triumph  of  the  Willis  faction  over  the 
Worth  faction,  but  the  lines  were  so  evenly 
drawn  that  the  day  after  Wurster  was  nomi- 
nated Worth  captured  the  county  convention 
and  nominated  a  straight  Worth  county  ticket. 

Suave,  smiling,  everybody's  friend,  Wood- 
ruff took  office  under  a  Willis  administration 
and  set  about  a  task  that  seemed  absurd — to 
please  the  Worth  faction  without  displeasing 
the  Willis  faction,  to  become  so  popular  with 
both  that  Kings  County  would  be  united  on 
his  personality  while  squabbling  like  cats  and 
dogs  on  everything  else,  and  to  demand  and 
get  a  state  office  for  himself  on  the  sole  ground 
of  Kings'  unity. 

He  did  it.  When  the  Saratoga  Convention 
met  the  oldest  politician  there  was  amazed  at 
the  unprecedented  sight  of  a  united,  harmoni- 
ous delegation  from  Kings,  demanding  Wood- 
ruff's nomination  for  lieutenant-governor. 
He  got  the  nomination,  and  was  elected. 

In  1897  Woodruff  still  had  on  his  mask  of 
the  amiable,  harmless,  inoffensive  dilettante 
in    politics.      That   year   the   Willis    faction 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  417 

shrunk  into  a  mere  remnant  of  its  former 
self,  and  Worth  controlled  the  town.  Willis, 
seeking  to  retain  some  shadow  of  his  support, 
snatched  at  a  straw  and  declared  for  Seth  Low 
for  mayor.  Worth,  not  to  be  outdone, 
promptly  seconded  the  nomination. 

When  the  time  came  for  the  nomination 
Senator  Piatt  was  opposed  to  Low  and  deter- 
mined to  run  a  third  ticket,  Low  having 
been  nominated  by  the  Citizens'  Union. 
Worth  stood  out  for  Low,  and  the  state  boss 
had  before  him  the  task  of  conquering  Brook- 
lyn. 

It  was  Woodruff's  opportunity.  His  am- 
bition was  not  only  to  make  himself  boss,  but 
to  put  an  end  to  the  discords  of  Kings  and 
make  it  a  power  in  the  state.  Piatt,  a  shrewd 
old  judge  of  men,  was  not  deceived  by  the 
smiling  Woodruff  mask,  and,  seeking  for  the 
ablest  politician  he  could  find,  he  placed  his 
interests  in  Woodruff's  hands,  took  his  own 
hands  off,  and  gave  the  lieutenant-governor 
carte  blanche. 

Woodruff  promptly  took  into  camp  the  dis- 
credited Willis,  with  Michael  J.  Dady  and 
Walter  B.  Atterbury.  All  had  belonged  to 
the  silk  stocking  wing  except  Dady.  Wood- 
ruff sat  in  the  background  and  let  it  appear 
that  Willis  was  the  real  leader  and  was  seek- 


418  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

ing  the  overthrow  of  Worth,  though  Willis, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  did  not  control  a  single 
ward  but  his  own. 

Worth  laughed  at  the  mere  idea  of  such  a 
newcomer  in  politics  as  Woodruff  wresting 
the  reins  from  him.  All  over  town  everybody 
was  on  a  broad  grin.  Worth  was  really 
amused,  and  he  called  Woodruff  a  ''  whipper- 
snapper  ''  and  thought  to  brush  him  aside  as 
easily  as  a  fly. 

The  broad  grin  continued  till  the  night  of 
the  county  convention,  when  Woodruff  swept 
Worth  out  of  existence  as  a  boss  by  a  tremen- 
dous majority  and  nominated  his  own  ticket, 
with  Atterbury  at  the  head. 

"  Congratulations !  The  whippersnapper 
has  got  there,"  wired  Senator  Piatt,  and  the 
telegram  arrived  at  Woodruff's  chair  as  the 
convention  was  adjourning.  He  smiled  dep- 
recatingly,  and  told  everybody  that  it  was 
Willis,  Atterbury  and  Dady  who  had  done  it ; 
he  had  merely  been  a  private  in  the  ranks. 

He  sent  a  Woodruff  delegation  to  the  city 
convention  and  voted  it  for  Tracy  for  mayor. 
Worth  was  out  of  politics  for  good  and  all, 
and  not  content  with  that,  Woodruff  drove 
out  every  one  of  the  old  chief 's  lieutenants, 
many  of  them  veterans.  None  of  them  has 
ever  got  back  into  office. 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  419 

Woodruff  was  now  absolute  boss  of  Brook- 
lyn, and  he  had  that  warring,  wrangling 
county  in  perfect  order  within  two  months. 
It  went  to  the  state  and  national  conventions 
like  a  regiment  on  parade.  It  spoke  and 
voted  as  one  man.  The  primary  fights  were 
a  thing  of  the  past.  A  task  that  had  defied 
all  the  politicians  for  thirty  years  was  accom- 
plished by  Woodruff  in  sixty  days. 

It  is  his  policy  to  stay  in  the  background 
unless  he  has  to  fight,  and  then  to  hit  like  a 
prize-fighter.  He  kept  up  the  fiction  that 
Willis,  Atterbury  and  Dady  were  the  real 
leaders,  and  stuck  to  it  with  a  face  as  unsmil- 
ing as  a  Roman  augur.  In  a  year  Willis  was 
down  and  out,  and  has  never  been  able  to  get 
back  in  politics  to  this  day.  Atterbury,  a 
man  given  to  taking  himself  seriously,  be- 
lieved that  all  Woodruff  said  about  him  was 
true.  He  controlled  the  biggest  ward  and  as- 
sembly district  in  the  city.  Becoming  swollen, 
he  raised  the  standard  of  revolt  against  Wood- 
ruff and  sought  to  become  boss  himself. 
Hitherto  Atterbury  had  been  absolute  boss  in 
his  own  district,  and  had  with  ease  defeated 
every  effort  to  take  it  away  from  him.  Wood- 
ruff was  upon  him  like  a  thunderbolt,  and  it 
was  only  a  matter  of  weeks  before  Atterbury 
was  shorn  of  power  and  reduced  to  nothing- 


420  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

ness.  Woodruff  tore  his  stronghold  from  him 
like  a  man  taking  a  toy  from  a  child.  Finally 
came  Dady's  revolt,  backed  by  Odell,  and  now 
Woodruff  is  alone. 

Three  times,  in  his  quiet,  unassuming  way, 
Woodruff  determined  that  he  should  be 
elected  lieutenant-governor,  and  he  always 
was.  That  was  a  violation  of  all  custom  in 
New  York.  In  1900  he  wanted  to  be  nomi- 
nated for  vice-president.  He  came  here  and 
saw  Mark  Hanna,  who  laughed  at  the  idea. 
The  "  pink  weskit  "  story  had  prejudiced  him, 
and  besides,  he  said.  Woodruff  was  too  young. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  is  older  than  President 
Roosevelt,  but  he  has  a  round,  boyish,  inno- 
cent face  and  looks  about  twenty-eight. 

The  ''  pink  weskit "  story  has  done  him  un- 
told harm.  Of  course  he  never  wore  one,  nor 
a  w^aistcoat  of  any  color  but  black  or  white. 
It  was  the  invention  of  an  Albany  correspond- 
ent, a  friend  of  Worth's.  Later  a  New  York 
paper,  seeking  a  ''  feature  "  for  a  Sunday  issue 
of  the  freak  variety,  told  its  Brooklyn  repre- 
sentative to  get  a  signed  statement  from  Wood- 
ruff on  "  pink  weskits." 

''  Oh,  write  anything  you  like  and  I'll  sign 
it,"  said  Woodruff,  who  was  up  to  his  ears  in 
work.  The  newspaper  man  wrote  a  serious 
defense    of    ''  pink    weskits,"    and   Woodruff 


OUT  IN  THE  FIELD  421 

signed  it  without  seeing  it.  The  man  who 
wrote  it,  who  is  now  dead,  intended  no  harm 
and  was  too  short-sighted  and  tactless  to  see 
that  it  would  injure  ''  Tim  "  ;  and  ''  Tim,"  on 
his  side,  relied  on  the  newspaper  man,  who 
was  his  friend.  It  did,  however,  operate  pow- 
erfully to  Woodruffs  harm,  and  all  its  bad  ef- 
fects have  not  yet  been  dissipated. 

Woodruff  displayed  his  courage  in  the  cam- 
paign of  1898,  his  second  for  the  lieutenant- 
governorship.  The  public  was  much  wrought 
up  over  the  issue  of  the  state  canals.  There 
was  clamorous  demand  for  investigation,  and 
Augustus  Van  Wyck,  the  Democratic  candi- 
date, was  posing  as  a  new  Tilden.  Theodore 
Roosevelt,  the  Republican  candidate  for  gov- 
ernor, made  speeches  promising  that  if  there 
was  anything  wrong  with  the  canals  he  would 
get  after  the  crooks.  Woodruff  boldly  took 
the  opposite  extreme  from  Van  Wyck  and  de- 
clared that  the  clamor  had  no  cause  and  that 
neither  Van  Wyck  nor  any  one  else,  if  elected 
governor,  would  find  anybody  to  punish. 

The  speeches  of  Woodruff  and  Roosevelt, 
made  on  the  same  platform,  did  not  ''  gee," 
and  it  was  freely  predicted  that  Woodruff's 
daring  and  unpopular  course  would  cost  him 
the  lieutenant-governorship,  whoever  became 
As  things    came   out,    the   misfit 


422  OUT  IN  THE  FIELD 

Tilden  was  beaten ;  Roosevelt  and  Woodruff 
were  elected,  and  sure  enough,  nobody  was 
found  to  be  punished.  His  courage  had  done 
Woodruff  no  harm  and  he  had  the  satisfaction 
of  being  vindicated  by  events. 

The  United  States  Senate  is  Woodruff's  am- 
bition. He  is  a  man  of  education  and  wealth, 
who  plays  politics  because  he  loves  the  game. 
Dady  was  a  political  boss  long  before  Wood- 
ruff was  heard  of,  and  despite  the  object  les- 
sons Woodruff  had  given  in  the  cases  of  Willis, 
Worth  and  Atterbury  there  were  the  usual 
false  prophets  to  predict  a  victory  for  Dady 
when  he  stood  backed  by  Odell  with  the  lat- 
ter's  power  as  unquestioned  boss.  Probably  he 
would  have  succeeded  in  the  case  of  any  one 
but  Woodruff. 

The  cool,  slick,  smiling  chieftain  is  the  only 
great  political  general  Kings  County  has  ever 
produced,  and  Dady  went  the  way  of  the 
rest. 


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